Dreams We Don't Admit to Having
by betweenstories
Summary: 1920s AU. Newly arrived in NYC, Piper gets drawn into the city's criminal underbelly by a mysterious rum-runner named Alex. When she finds herself caught in the middle of a turf war, will her little taste of life in the city send her running? Or will she find a reason to stay? Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**Dreams We Don't Admit to Having**

**1920s AU. When Piper Chapman arrives in New York to spend time with her fiancé, she finds herself drawn into the city's seedy underbelly by a mysterious rum-runner named Alex Vause. Piper soon finds herself involved in a turf war between Red and Vee, two speakeasy owners with extensive criminal connections. Will her taste of life in the big city be enough to send Piper running, or will she find a reason to stay?**

I obviously don't own any of these characters. I just thought it would be fun to put them in a time machine and play with them awhile.

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><p><em>Well, this is it<em>, Piper thought as she gazed up at the huge, multistoried stone building in front of her. _My new home_.

She had arrived in the city several hours ago, whereupon a driver had loaded her trunk into the car and headed into the maze of streets. New York was like nothing she'd ever seen before. Piper had lived most of her life at her parents' modest estate, where she'd often felt like a big fish in a small pond. But now she felt utterly minuscule. With her face nearly pressed against the glass, she watched the parade of storefronts, cars, and people with a mixture of delight and apprehension. When her mother had proposed sending her to live with her grandmother for a few months, she had been thrilled. Now, though, she was beginning to wonder if she'd said yes too quickly.

Still, what Piper craved was excitement, and it was already clear that New York City would be happy to oblige.

The doorman swept his cap off in a neat little bow as he opened the door for her. "Right this way, miss," he said courteously, leading her to the door of her grandmother's apartment. It opened before she had time to knock.

"Piper, _darling_!" Her grandmother's arms closed around her, locking her into a tight embrace. "I was so thrilled when I read your mother's letter. I'll be so happy to have the company. It has been too quiet around here!"

The hug was uncomfortably long, and only with some effort did Piper manage to keep herself from squirming in her grandmother's arms like an impatient toddler. Finally Celeste let go, only to take a step back and begin sweeping her gaze critically over Piper's appearance. "You're looking well," she concluded at last, with an approving smile.

They were standing in the foyer of Celeste's apartment, a two-storied, unnecessarily vast collection of half-empty rooms. As Piper's eyes swept around the space, she saw that it looked more decorated than it did inhabited; while the parlor contained only a few stately, if outdated furnishings, the walls were covered in an endless succession of paintings. Piper's family came from old money, and it looked like her grandmother hadn't remodeled since Victoria was queen of England.

Fixing a smile onto her face, Piper turned back to face Celeste. "Thank you for letting me stay with you, Grandmother."

"Of course, dear! This way, this way." She beckoned for Piper to follow her, bypassing the parlor and heading up the central staircase.

Piper dragged her trunk to the foot of the stairs, sized it up despondently, and abandoned it; she would have to ask the doorman to help her move it later.

"So, tell me more about your young man," Celeste urged as she reached the top of the stairs. "Your fiancé, that is."

Piper's fiancé was the reason she was here in New York. The two of them had met during one of her prior visits with her grandmother in the city. He had been courting her for nearly two years now, and had written to her father recently proposing that the two of them marry. He was a good man, sweet and kind. A dreamer with grand plans for the future. A family man. Since he lived here in the city, Piper's mother suggested that she come and stay with Celeste for a while, so that the two of them could spend more time together in celebration of their engagement.

"His name is Larry," Piper replied, reaching the landing on the second floor. "He's a writer. Well, he's an editor."

"An assistant editor, your mother told me." Celeste frowned. She didn't think much of newspapers, preferring to get her news from other sources; namely, the latest gossip among her friends at the social club.

"He's very talented," Piper said, defensively. "He's going to have his own column soon."

"It's not a very lucrative profession though, writing. Not much of a career to be made out of it."

"Well grandmother, I'm not marrying him for his money, no."

Celeste dismissed this topic with a wave of her well-manicured hand. "Never mind all that," she said impatiently. "We can talk about him later. Let me show you to your room!"

Piper followed her grandmother around the apartment, half-listening to Celeste's excited, one-way conversation and interjecting comments like "oh, how wonderful!" whenever a pause indicated that a response was expected. Piper didn't mean to be rude, she was simply too overcome with nervous excitement to pay much attention. Larry was supposed to pick her up for lunch tomorrow and show her around the city, but she didn't want to wait that long. After enduring a dinner that lasted several hours and an equally lengthy rant on the inappropriate stylings of flappers (who, Piper secretly thought after listening to her Celeste describe them, seemed to have some pretty novel ideas) Piper managed to coax her grandmother off the topic long enough to propose going for a walk on her own.

Her grandmother frowned slightly at the request. "Well, all right, darling, but don't go far, and do be careful. And don't forget your coat! It looks like rain."

By the time Piper made her escape and stepped out onto the sidewalk, the grey sky was growing darker still. It was early April, and the evening air retained a bite of cold that made her glad for the heavy coat over her dress. The dark silhouettes of buildings rose around her on all sides, and despite their gloomy visage Piper found herself smiling, filled pleasure at the sense of impending adventure.

There were few other people on the sidewalks at this hour; most seemed to have gone home to their families for the evening. Aside from the occasional roar of an engine as a car passed by, this neighborhood was relatively quiet. Piper knew her father would think it inappropriate for her to be strolling around the city by herself at this hour, but found that she didn't care. There was a rule-breaking streak in her that seldom showed itself around her family members, but was there nonetheless, and just now she was giving in to its seductive whisper.

She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, and turned her face skyward. Was that-? _Rain_, she confirmed silently as another drop fell onto her cheek. A moment later the gentle drizzle turned into a downpour and Piper sought shelter under an awning, her back pressed against the darkened windows of a closed storefront. A rumble of thunder passed by in the distance.

"Damn," she cursed softly, surveying the approaching storm. If she tried to wait it out, grandmother would grow worried when she didn't return to the apartment. She was preparing herself to plunge into the heavy sheets of rain when a voice made her pause.

"A little damp for an evening stroll, don't you think?"

Piper turned around to face a startlingly tall woman, who was extending an umbrella in her direction. Dark hair spilled out from beneath the stranger's black, bell-shaped hat, and she wore a heavy trench coat, also black. The affect of all this dark attire was both imposing and mystifying, especially because it made the amused expression in her eyes stand out even more.

Piper, realizing she'd been staring, coughed slightly to cover her nervous pause. "I didn't think it was going to rain."

The stranger chuckled. "You're not from around here, are you?" She spoke in a deep, slightly raspy voice. Something about her tone made Piper blush.

"Why do you say that?" Piper frowned, feeling defensive.

"Any native would know to carry an umbrella on a night like this. Lucky for you, I have one I'm willing to share." She tilted her head to one side, indicating that Piper should walk beside her.

Piper hesitated. She was certain that accepting invitations from strangers qualified as rule-breaking behavior, and it was a bad idea to get into trouble this soon after arriving in New York. Then again, walking home alone in a storm was not a very appealing prospect. Besides, Piper reasoned, the stranger was a woman and therefore perfectly safe. "Thank you," she said courteously.

As she stepped forward into the umbrella's circle of protection the dark-haired woman held out her arm, bent at the elbow, the way a gentleman might. This seemed like a strange gesture to Piper, but she linked her own arm loosely through the stranger's anyway.

"Alex," the woman said as they started to walk.

"I'm sorry?"

"My name," she clarified, "is Alex."

"Well, thank you, Alex, for sharing your umbrella." The thunder rumbled again, louder and closer than before, and Piper tightened her hold on her new companion's arm without realizing it. Storms always made her feel skittish.

Alex gave no indication that she noticed this, but arched an eyebrow expectantly. "When someone gives you their name, it's generally considered polite to respond in kind."

"Oh! I'm sorry, it's Piper."

"Piper," Alex repeated. For some reason, the sound of her name spoken in that raspy voice made Piper shiver just a little. No-she reasoned with herself firmly-it was the chill in the air making her cold, that's all.

"So where were are we going, Piper?"

She supplied her grandmother's address to the stranger, who gave a knowing smile in response. "Ah, okay. It makes sense now."

"What does?"

"You, being here. I know what that address means. You're staying with a wealthy old lady."

"Excuse me?"

"Let me guess," Alex continued. "You're from some little town somewhere. You got tired of your dull life and your dull family. You've always dreamed of seeing the big city, getting a taste of life beyond your little country lane. Little Red Riding Hood, on her way to grandmother's house, hoping for a taste of adventure."

Piper stopped walking and pulled her arm angrily out of Alex's grasp, but the taller woman just laughed. "Well I'm right, aren't I?"

Piper tried to think of a clever retort, but all she could do was glare at that smug, smirking face with her mouth open slightly. Finally she took a calming breath and began to walk again, forcing Alex to move faster to keep up. "Well, if I'm Red Riding Hood, who does that make you? The wolf, or the woodsman?"

"Hmm. I guess you'll just have to find out."

They walked several minutes without speaking, and only the sound of rain hitting the umbrella prevented the silence from becoming absolute. Piper felt uneasy, slightly put-off, and altogether intrigued by Alex's teasing. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize they had reached the apartment until Alex abruptly stopped walking.

"Safe and sound, little Red," she quipped.

"Well then I guess you're not the wolf," Piper replied, offering a conciliatory smile.

"Don't be so sure," Alex warned, the subtle smirk returning to her features. Her eyes were bright with amusement.

"Thank you for walking me home, Alex."

"Welcome to the city, Piper. Maybe I'll see you around." She inclined her head in a slight bow and then turned away, disappearing back into the dreary night.

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><p><strong>Author's note: well it's not much, but it gets things started. I haven't written any fic in a long while, but I had this idea kicking around in my head and I had to give it a shot. Nicky, Morello, Taystee, Poussey, and the rest of the Litchfield gang will also be featured in this story as it progresses. Feedback always appreciated. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Piper stood on a street corner on Broadway, absently taking a drag from her cigarette. Larry was inside somewhere, talking to one of his associates. True to his promise to show her around, he had arrived at her grandmother's apartment that morning like a perfect gentleman. When he held out his arm to lead her off down the sidewalk, Piper had been reminded of her encounter with Alex the previous night, and the oddly intimate manner in which the brunette had offered to walk her home. Larry was the opposite: formal, polite, restrained. He was everything her parents wanted for her. And, of course, everything she wanted. At least that's what she kept telling herself.

The two of them had spent the morning walking all over Manhattan. Piper had been introduced to so many businessmen, now indistinguishable from each other and resembling so many talking suits. She was surprised that Larry had so many professional connections; the newspaper was small and still starting out, but a handful of big-shots on Wall Street had seen potential despite its low circulation and decided to buy up the paper's advertising space, which is how Larry had come to meet them. Manhattan itself was dizzying, a conglomerate of corporate towers and newly-constructed apartments, decorated at the street-level by food and clothing vendors of all kinds. New York was just as big and fast-paced as Piper had expected, and yet it felt like there was something missing in the experience.

"Ow!" Piper yelped, dropping the cigarette butt suddenly and sucking her burned fingers into her mouth. _That's what you get for not paying attention, Piper._

"You just can't seem to stay out of trouble, can you?"

A familiar deep, feminine voice floating toward her.

"Alex?" She sheepishly lowered her scorched fingers and glanced up.

"Piper." That familiar, amused grin was fixed on Alex's face as she reached into an inner pocket of her coat and withdrew a pack of cigarettes. Plucking one from the box, she reached out and placed it delicately between Piper's lips, enjoying the look of surprise on the blonde's face. She then produced a lighter from another pocket, and was on the verge lighting up when Piper finally found her voice.

"No, thank you." Piper said delicately, removing the smoke and holding out toward Alex. "I'm not actually much of a smoker. I only really do it when I'm bored, to pass the time."

Alex shrugged, reclaimed the cigarette, and lit it for herself. "You're a long way from grandmother's house, little Red. How'd you find your way here without getting lost?"

"I'm not that helpless!" Piper retorted angrily.

"Oh come on! You got lost three blocks from your building last night!"

"It was storming, and it was difficult to see," Piper said, with a soft _hmph_ of indignation.

"Uh huh. So where's the woodsman?"

"Excuse me?"

Alex laughed and blew out a mouthful of smoke. "You know what I mean-who walked you downtown?"

"I thought _you_ were the woodsman."

"I seem to recall implying that I might be the wolf," she said smugly. "Seriously, who are you here with?"

Piper surveyed Alex through narrowed eyes. "My fiancé. Not that it's any of your business," she added haughtily.

"I knew it," said Alex, still smiling softly. "It's all coming together now. Country girl, city boy, grannie playing the part of the matchmaker-what a cliché. What does your fiancé do?"

"Again, I don't see how this is any of your business."

"Oh please, Piper." She dropped the remains of her cigarette onto the sidewalk, and then ground it beneath her heel. "Don't act like you don't want to talk about it. You're just dying to tell me how dull he is, how being here is nothing like you expected it to be. You're so obvious. You're like an open book."

"You don't know me, Alex."

"Oh, but I know so many girls _like_ you." Rummaging through her pockets again, the brunette pulled out a piece of paper and pen. She scribbled something down, and then held it toward Piper.

The blonde reached out to take it. "What is this? An address?" She made to pulled her hand away, but Alex was quicker; she wrapped her long fingers around the blonde's wrist, holding it in place. When she spoke, her voice was low. Almost... seductive.

"If you want a real taste of life in the city, meet me there tonight." She held Piper's gaze for a moment, then let go of the blonde's wrist and withdrew her hand slowly.

Piper felt her skin grown warm where the woman's fingers had touched. "What is it?" She asked, curious despite herself.

"You'll see," Alex said with a shrug as she turned to walk away. "If you can find it without getting _lost_."

"Piper!" Hearing her name in an altogether different voice, Piper turned to find Larry making his way toward her. "Who were you talking to?"

"No one," Piper mumbled. But as Larry starting talking about the restaurant he was taking her to for lunch, her gaze shifted in the direction Alex had gone, as if hoping to catch one last glimpse of her tall figure disappearing into the crowd.

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><p>Later that night, Piper found herself standing at the mouth of an alleyway somewhere in the Lower East Side. She had taken a cab this far, and when she'd paid her fare the cabbie had given her a look of concern and offered to drop her off somewhere else, no extra charge. She had thanked him politely and waved him on his way, but now, with only the dull light of the streetlamp for company, Piper wondered if she'd made a mistake.<p>

She stared down at the scrap of paper in her hand again; yes, this was the right place. There was a man smoking at the far end of the alley, and she hesitated a moment before gathering her courage and taking a few steps forward. The man coughed and Piper stopped walking abruptly, every muscle in her body tense. _You're crazy, Piper Chapman._ And yet... a part of her was proud of herself for having come this far. She knew Alex didn't actually expect her to show, and she wanted to throw it in the brunette's smug, smirking face. _I can be daring if I want to be._ Taking a deep, steadying breath, she walked the last few yards to the door.

The smoking man eyed her warily, and then gave a slow nod. Piper took this to mean that she was in the right place. She knocked on the door.

No answer.

She knocked again, and then pulled at the handle.

Locked.

The man standing nearby gave an audible sigh of impatience and began walking toward her. Terrified, she shrank back against the wall, but he passed her and reached toward the door instead. He rapped his knuckles hard on the wood in a complicated series of knocks that were clearly meant to be a pattern, and then turned to glare at her, as if to say, "_was that really so difficult?"_

After a moment's pause the door swung open. The hallway beyond was dark, and Piper swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She looked at the doorman for reassurance. He gave a curt nod and then turned away, ignoring her once more.

There was another man just inside the doorway, who barely glanced at her as he pulled the door closed and turned the lock. Piper made her way down the dark hall on shaky legs, thinking that she was probably going to be murdered here tonight and wondering whether anyone would find her body. The hallway took a sharp left turn, and then a flight of stairs descended into pitch-black gloom. At the bottom was another door, but this one swung open easily.

Immediately a gale of laughter and noise swept over her, accompanied by the boisterous tinkling of piano keys and the brassy swing of a trumpet. She was in a large, underground club; cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air, along with the mingled odor of sweat and stale drink. Groups of laughing patrons were clanking their glasses together at tables around the edges of the room. In the far corner an exuberant jazz band with playing, and women clad in drop-waisted, fringed dresses were doing the Charleston on a dance floor in front of the stage.

Piper let out a sigh of relief, her heart still pounding from the dangerous thrill of her arrival. Scanning the room, she found a familiar, dark-haired figure standing near the bar. _Alex. _

Determined not to show the brunette how rattled she was, Piper fixed a determined grin on her face and sauntered up to the bar.

"Alex," she said lightly, tapping her on the shoulder.

Alex spun around looking surprised, and then distinctly pleased, to see the face in front of her. "Piper," she said with a grin. "I'm glad you found it okay."

"What IS this place?" Piper marveled, still staring in every direction.

"This," replied Alex, "is what you're looking for. The great American Dream, right? Your fiancé can keep Broadway and Wall Street. This is where the real dreams live." She lowered her voice to a sly, conspiratorial whisper. "The dreams we don't admit to having."

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks again for reading! Let me know what you think in the reviews. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for your encouragement so far! Your reviews help keep up my enthusiasm for the story, so don't be shy about leaving one! I know the pace has been a bit slow so far but it should pick up from here on out.**

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><p>When Piper's eyes finished taking in the scene and landed back on Alex, she found the brunette staring at her with her eyebrows raised in amusement. She patted the chair next to her in invitation and Piper, blushing slightly, sat down.<p>

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in!" They were interrupted by the woman behind the counter. She had big, bushy, reddish-blonde hair that looked it hadn't been brushed in a year, which somehow seemed to suit her. She leaned casually against the counter. "Who's your friend, Vause?"

'Vause' evidently referred to Alex, who answered, "This is Piper."

"It's nice to meet you," Piper said with a smile, holding out her hand to shake.

"Wow, look at the manners on this one!" The bartender took her hand and shook it with sarcastic exuberance.

"Piper, this is Nicole Nichols."

"Jesus, Vause, don't tell her my first name!" Nichols looked horrified, and Alex laughed.

"Her mother was so proud of marrying into the Nichols family fortune that she decided to make it her daughter's _first_ name, too."

"Shut up, _Alexandra_."

"Fuck you," Alex said mildly.

"It's Nicky," the bartender told Piper firmly. "And if I hear either one of you start in with that 'Nicole' crap, I'll throw you out on your ass with the street for a cushion. Here," she added, producing a glass and a bottle of liquor from beneath the counter. She poured out a drink and pushed it toward Piper. "First one's on the house."

"Is this your place?" Piper asked wonderingly. Much to her confusion, both Nicky and Alex started laughing.

"Hell no! I just pour the drinks. This is Red's gig."

"Red?"

"You might see her later, but she works in the back office, mostly. Those two guys guarding the entrance are her sons, Vasily and Yuri. Russians are intimidating, so they make the best doormen."

Piper silently agreed with that sentiment. She was definitely intimidated by everything about the club; the doormen, the people... the booze. It was harder to get your hands on alcohol back where Piper came from, and though she knew there must be some kind of black market for it in the city, she hadn't envisioned anything like this.

"What if someone finds out about this, though?" She felt suddenly anxious. "I mean, couldn't anyone just walk in here, and... and... isn't this all kind of... illegal?"

Alex burst into immediate laughter, while Nicky's eyebrows shot up incredulously.

"Seriously, Vause, where did you find this one? At a Girl Scouts of America meeting?" She turned to face Piper. "Listen, kid, the best way to keep this whole operation a secret is to _not fucking talk about it._ It's called a speakeasy, not a shout-it-loudly, okay? Everyone in here either received a personal invite from Red, or is friends with someone who did. We're like family here. So just keep your mouth shut about it, and there won't be any problems, _capiche_?"

Feeling a little annoyed at being addressed like she was a disobedient child, Piper opened her mouth to reply. Nicky, however, was hailed by a couple at the other end of the bar and hurried off to pour drinks for them.

"Don't worry about her." Alex touched Piper lightly on the shoulder, drawing the blonde's attention away from the retreating bartender. "Red's like a mother to her, and since the club is Red's baby, Nicky's really protective of it too. She doesn't mean anything by it."

"Yeah, okay."

"She's not wrong though, about the secrecy. I took a risk by inviting you here."

"I'm not going to tell anyone!" Piper said defensively. "I can keep a secret!"

"Good to know," Alex replied with a grin, and Piper felt her cheeks growing warm.

"So how do you know Red, then?"

"We're in the same circle, professionally."

Piper got the distinct impression that she was being given the brush-off, but persisted. "You used to work with her? Before she started the club?"

"Let's just say that it takes connections to run a business like this one... and I happen to know a lot of the right kind of people."

Taking a moment to ponder the meaning of that answer, Piper lifted her glass and took a tentative drink. It took all of her willpower not to let out an audible noise of disgust.

"You okay, there?"

"Yes, but this whiskey is _awful_. It tastes like it was fermented in an old shoe."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "Really? I must have done something wrong then."

Piper, who had just taken another reluctant swallow, immediately choked on it and was beset by a fit of coughing. "You- you- made this?!" she sputtered in between gasps of air. "I'm sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean to- sometimes I just say things without thinking," she whispered, mortified. Alex was laughing at her, evidently enjoying her distress.

"I didn't _make_ it," she said finally, still chuckling. "I just transported it. That's how I know Red."

"Oh. Wait, jesus, you're a rum-runner?"

"I prefer to think of myself as an importer of luxury goods."

"Oh my god, I had no idea, Alex. Jesus." She found herself suddenly unable to meet the other woman's gaze. What on earth was she thinking, showing up here tonight? She'd been in New York for twenty-four hours and she'd already gotten herself into trouble. _I am such an idiot_, she thought, despairingly.

"Piiiiperrrr," Alex drawled, and causing the blonde to look up from the bar. "Are you okay?"

"I'm, uh, fine."

"Do you need to go back upstairs and get some air?"

"I said I'm fine!" Piper snapped. She _was_ feeling warm, though. The air was heavy with cigarette smoke, making it difficult to breathe.

"Hey." Alex reached out and curled her finger around an errant strand of blonde hair, and Piper found herself short of breath for a very different reason. She held herself perfectly still as Alex brushed the hair back with her thumb, tucking it into place behind the blonde's ear.

"I can call you a cab if you want to leave, " she offered.

"No," Piper said quickly. "I don't want to leave."

"That's what I was hoping."

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><p>As the night wore on, the club became so crowded that Piper wasn't sure she'd be able to squeeze her way to the exit even if she wanted to. Nicky was busy pouring drinks and didn't have time to talk, although once she caught Piper's eye and winked, for which Piper was glad. She felt like she'd made a bad impression, and didn't want Nicky to think she was untrustworthy. Despite her initial shock at finding herself at an illegal bar full of apparent criminals, after she'd had a couple of drinks she began to feel extremely fond of everyone.<p>

After a while the brass band announced that they were retiring for the evening, which garnered several boos from the couples on the dance floor. After a brief intermission, however, a trio of singers ascended to the stage to a greeting of whoops and applause. All of the singers were black and two of them were women; the third was just about the smallest man Piper had ever seen, dressed to the nines in a smartly tailored suit and matching fedora tilted slightly to one side. He sat down at the piano and began to play, and the two women began to sing a slow, sultry number.

When the piano player opened his mouth to add harmony, however, Piper received a shock; the person she'd thought was male had a clear, high, feminine voice.

Alex was in conversation with someone on the other side of her, and Piper had to tap on her shoulder to get her attention.

"Who is that?" She asked, nodding her head in the direction of the stage.

"Oh, they're sort of the house band. Tasha, Cindy, and Poussey. They have a standing contract with Red."

"And the one playing piano?"

"Poussey Washington," Alex replied with a knowing half-smile. "She's broken a lot of hearts, if half of the rumors are true."

"Why is she dressed like that?"

Alex shrugged. "That's just what she always wears. Red tried to convince her to perform in a dress, once, but she wouldn't do it. Wouldn't even walk onstage, and the other two won't sing without her."

Piper stared, utterly fascinated. She knew there were women who sometimes wore men's trousers, but only rarely in public, and never with a full suit like this. Now that she looked more closely, Piper wondered how she could have mistaken Poussey for a man. Her features were too soft, the curve of her mouth too feminine. Piper had never seen an act like this jazz trio before.

She was so intent on the singers that she didn't notice Alex staring at her, nor did she see the little satisfied smile on her face. When the song ended and the crowd began to applaud, Piper turned her attention back to the woman sitting next to her.

Alex leaned in closer to make herself heard above the noise of the cheering patrons. "So," she began in a low tone, "I promised to show you a good time tonight. Did I deliver?"

Piped smiled and drained the dregs of her whiskey. "You don't have to ask, Alex."

"Ah, but I want to hear you say it," she teased.

"Fine," Piper replied, in a tone of mock annoyance. "I had fun tonight."

"Really? Even though you're associating with the criminal element?"

"Careful, you might make me change my mind!"

Alex chuckled. "You should come back again tomorrow."

"I can't." Piper shook her head, and her regret was genuine. "I have plans."

"With the fiancé?"

"Yes."

Alex studied Piper's eyes for a moment, and the intensity of her gaze made the blonde uncomfortable. That look-whatever it meant- felt more dangerous than anything else Piper had participated in that evening, and she felt her face growing warm with embarrassment. Realizing she was making Piper uncomfortable, Alex broke her stare and looked away. "Let me walk you home, then," she said, in a carefully even tone.

"All right," Piper agreed. She pulled on her coat, and the two of them forced their way through the now-thinning crowd and back up the stairs toward the alleyway.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them as they walked. Unlike the previous night, Alex didn't offer her arm this time. She kept a careful distance between them as they neared Celeste's apartment, for which Piper was both grateful and, strangely, slightly disappointed.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thank you so much for your reviews and PMs! You all are awesome. I haven't written a story in so long and I'm having a good time with this one, so I'm glad you're enjoying it! In this chapter I wanted to kind of set up the main conflict. I think it's going to be fun.

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><p>"Hey, Vause, you can't smoke in here!" Nicky reached over and plucked the unlit cigarette from Alex's fingers. "Red will kill you for doing that shit. She says it gets ash all over her paperwork."<p>

Alex rolled her eyes, but didn't complain. Red's office, Red's rules. Early in the afternoon she'd sent word to the girls who worked her club, calling them all to an urgent meeting. None of them knew what it was about, but they knew it was serious; Red didn't run her business by committee. She made decisions and told the rest of them later, when it became relevant. For her to have invited them all together meant she had an announcement to make, and it wasn't likely to be about anything good.

"You think the cops were here?" Tasha ventured, shifting nervously in her seat.

"Could be," Cindy agreed. "Shit, I hope not."

"Maybe they gave Red a warning, and she's about to shut it down."

"No way, she isn't giving this place up that easy. Red ain't no chickenshit crook, she's a business woman!"

"Well I'll tell you right now, I'm not doing no jail time over her _business_, no matter how much she's paying us!"

"Will you two shut up?" Nicky stood up from her seat. "We don't know it was the cops, okay? We don't know anything. Let's just wait and hear what she has to say."

There was silence for a minute as they all considered the possibilities.

"It wasn't the police," Poussey said quietly, and everyone turned to look at her. But before she could explain, the door opened and Red walked in. Her signature, fiery hair was more disheveled than usual, and she walked stiffly. But despite her haggard appearance, her eyes retained that glimmer of defiance that was her defining character.

"Thank you for coming, girls." She crossed the room and slumped into the armchair chair behind her desk. "I would not have asked you all here on such short notice if it wasn't important for us to discuss this together."

"Red, what's going on?"

"Trouble," she growled, and then glanced at Poussey. "Tell them."

Poussey took a deep breathe and removed her hat, cradling it in her lap like it was a letter full of bad news she didn't want to deliver. "Last night after our set, right about closing time, this woman approached me. She said if I got tired of playing here, she would set me up with something better." Poussey cast an apologetic glance a Tasha and Cindy, and then continued. "She started talking about getting me my own band, and saying how I'd be singing for a full club every night."

"You weren't gonna tell me and Cindy about this?!" Tasha demanded, glaring furiously at her singing partner.

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"So does that mean you're leaving?"

"Of course I'm not leaving!" Poussey snapped in response. "That's not the point! The point is, someone's setting up another club. In our district."

A stunned silence followed this pronouncement. In the six months since Red's club had opened and she'd assembled the women in this room to help her, they'd become as close as a family. For most of them, Red was the mother they'd never had. The club was as close to home as they'd ever know, and in a short amount of time they'd all come to take it for granted that it would always be there for them. But a rival speakeasy was bad news. Very bad news. Competition meant that customers would leave, money would stop coming in, and less cash meant it would be harder to keep the alcohol in good supply. Without enough profit to finance the operations, they'd be forced to close up shop.

As they all contemplated how to react to this news, Red cast a wary eye upon Poussey.

"This... _woman_," she said, her voice thick with contempt, "did she tell you how to contact her? Did she give you any other information?"

"No," Poussey replied, shaking her head. "When I asked, she just said that she knew where to find me, and that she'd be expecting my answer the next time she saw me. She said her name was Vee."

"We can do some reconnaissance," cut in Nicky. "One of us stays in sight of Poussey at all times. The next time this Vee person shows up, we'll follow her home, set up surveillance. Find out where her spot is."

"This isn't a crime novel, Nicky," Red said reprovingly.

"Aw come on, Red, are you a Russian mobster or not?"

Poussey glared at her from across the room. "I'm glad you still have your sense of humor," she said coldly.

"What about you, Vause?" Red fixed her gaze on the brunette, who had been silent through the entire exchange thus far. "You're very quiet."

Alex pursed her lips slightly. "Because I know what you're going to ask. And the answer is no. No fucking way, I can't call in any more favors. Do you know how hard it is to get across the border right now? My guy in Toronto is packing his shit in containers of maple syrup right now. Maple fucking syrup! And if customs opens up one of those crates, we're done for. I can't move any more booze than we already have coming in. That's it. Limited supply."

"This is important. We're already selling out faster than we can pour."

"And I'm telling you I can't do it."

"Then find another source! There are people closer to home we can buy from."

Alex glared at her. She knew Red was right, but the woman didn't know the game like Vause did. And right now the game had to be played very, very cautiously.

"Listen girls, we're not giving up." Red said firmly. "But from now on, we have to tread very carefully. No slip-ups. No mistakes. And be careful who you trust. We don't know who's working with this... _Vee_. Until we figure out who's in her crew, keep the new invites to a minimum."

Nicky shot an accusatory look at Alex, who knew that Nichols was thinking of a certain blonde from the night before. She didn't need to worry on that front, however; Alex tried not to make a habit out of chasing unavailable girls, and not only was Piper engaged, she was obviously not interested.

"Remember," Red softened her tone. "We're family here, and we're going to get through this as a family." She stood up. "Now, I have to go speak with those sons of mine about who they let in the front door."

* * *

><p>"That was... awful," Larry said with a sigh, picked up his fork and knife and stabbing at the food in front of him. He and Piper had just left Celeste's apartment. Piper's grandmother wanted to meet him, and they couldn't put it off any longer.<p>

"No it wasn't!" Piper replied cheerfully. "She liked you!"

"She told me the newspaper I write for is-what was her phrase? 'A swirling sewer of socialist propaganda?'"

"She just has strong opinions about that kind of things. I promise it has nothing to do with you!"

"Piper." Larry set down his fork and knife and reached across the table, laying his hand gently over the top of his fiancée's. "I love you. I just... I want your family to believe that I can take care of you."

Piper smiled. "I know. They just need to get to know you better, Larry. They're going to love you too, it just takes time."

Larry seemed to relax a little after that, and the two of them finished their lunch while rehashing the more amusing details of their meeting with Celeste, especially the lengthy story about her second husband and his proclivity for getting monocles stuck in his eye (due to muscle degeneration). Larry paid for their meal and they left the deli, taking to the street arm-in-arm.

While they were walking, Piper suddenly stopped walked. A smile filled her features and she began to wave at someone in the distance. "Alex!" she yelled excitedly. "Alex, over here!"

The brunette stared around for the source of the shouting, and her eyes found Piper through the crowd. They hadn't seen each other in about a week, since the night at the club. When she saw who Piper was with, however, she wished she'd pretended not to notice them. For a split second she considered walking away, but her thin sense of decorum won out, and she forced a smile onto her face and waited for Piper to catch up to her.

"Larry, this is Alex, the girl I told you about. She's been helping me find my way around!"

"That's me, the tour guide." Alex replied in a falsely cheering voice.

"This is Larry, my fiancé."

"Nice to meet you," Larry and Alex said to one another.

"We were just going for a walk in the park," Piper said brightly. "Do you want to join us?"

"Uh, thanks, but I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense," said Larry. "You wouldn't be intruding. Besides, I'd love to hear your version of how Piper managed to get lost on her first night here. She told me you helped her get home. I owe you my thanks for that!"

"Yeah, well... happy to help. I have to get going, though, sorry. Maybe another time."

Piper frowned. She didn't know why Alex was acting so strangely. The last few times they'd met the brunette had been so playful, and had barely stopped grinning the entire time. Her smile now looked false and pained, like she couldn't wait to get away.

"Are you all right, Alex?"

"Yeah, of course. I just have to go. It was nice to meet you, Gary."

"It's, uh, Larry."

"Right, sorry. Enjoy your walk."

Piper watched Alex reach into her coat pocket for a cigarette as she retreated, and soon she was lost in the bustling crowd.

"That was odd," Piper said thoughtfully. "She's usually much more engaging."

"Maybe she has a lot on her mind?" Larry suggested.

"Yeah," Piper agreed, wondering what exactly it was that had Alex so wrapped up in her thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex sat at the end of the bar nursing her third gin and tonic of the evening. Her attempt to wash away the bitter taste of the week's failed business deals was, thus far, proving unsuccessful. Whoever, this Vee person was, she'd cornered the market in a hurry. Alex had met with four of her local contacts that week, and each one of them had turned her down, citing "other opportunities." Alex wasn't stupid, and she knew what that meant: that Vee had gotten to those guys before her and offered to double or triple their asking price. The newcomer was clearly doing everything in her power to ensure the taps at Red's bar ran dry, sooner rather than later. It was a power-play, no question. And it meant that Alex would have to strike deals with some of her less refined, more dangerous associates if she wanted to stay in business.

She sighed, drained her glass, and signaled Nicky over for a refill.

"Nope, sorry Vause. I'm cutting you off."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"I'm not joking. If you drink all my booze, what am I going to serve to the customers that actually pay?"

"Oh, trust me, I pay."

Alex made a grab for the bottle of liquor in Nicky's hand, but she was inebriated and clumsy and Nicky side-stepped her easily. Unable to get what she wanted by force, Alex pouted for all she was worth. She even allowing her bottom lip to tremble slightly, but Nicky just laughed in response.

"That face may work on a lot of girls, but not me. You've already used up all your special favors. Now, how about a glass of water?"

"Fuck you," Alex growled.

"I'm serious. You need to sober up. Didn't you hear what Red told us? We're supposed to be keeping our eyes peeled. _She_ could be here tonight." Nicky's tone was unusually ominous, and they both knew that 'she' referred to the mysterious woman who was suddenly the source of all their troubles. Red had stepped up security all week, even going so far as to bring in a few of her younger girls to act as extra pairs of eyes. Tricia and Mercy, both of whom were barely even old enough to drink, had been moving through the crown all night on the alert for anyone who didn't belong there.

"Fine," Alex sighed in resignation. "You win." She accepted a glass of water from her friend, looking far from happy about it.

"You never told me how you got involved in all of this in the first place," Nicky said suddenly, leaning forward against he counter. "From what I've heard, you used to be a big-time importer. I imagine you were doing pretty good business. Why would you give that up just to work here, with a bunch of amateurs?"

"I happen to like you amateurs," Alex replied with a wry smile. "I don't know, I guess I just got tired. I was in too far." She hesitated, unsure whether or not she should elaborate. Deciding that she trusted Nicky more than most people, she continued. "I lost one of my business partners about a year back. We had a huge shipment coming in, and it was going to be the biggest pay day of our lives. So we were waiting down on the docks before sunrise, and when the boat came in we hurried over to help unload the boxes. We didn't realize the fuckers on the freighter had cut a deal with someone else, some bastard named Kubra, and within seconds we had about a dozen guns pointed at us."

"So... what happened?" Nicky asked, tentatively.

Alex shrugged. "I made it home. My partner didn't. After that, I guess my heart wasn't really in it anymore."

"Shit," her friend replied quietly.

"Yeah. When I started working for Red, it was kind of a relief. I sleep better now." She lowered her voice slightly. "I don't have to keep a gun under my pillow anymore, you know?"

Nicky looked slightly disconcerted at this admission, as if she wasn't really sure how to react. After a few seconds, a slow smile stole across her features. "Well," she said, in a heartened tone. "I know something that will cheer you up."

"You changed your mind about making me another drink?"

"No."

Alex groaned, closing her eyes and letting her face fall to rest on the bar top.

"But your girl just walked in."

"My girl?" Alex asked with mild interest, opening one eye.

"Yeah, the blonde one. What was her name again? Piper?"

"Piper?" Alex repeated, sitting up in sudden interest. "Piper's _here_?"

"Yeah, and you better get yourself together before you talk to her, because you look like hell." Nicky smirked at her, before nodding her head in Piper's direction.

There she was, standing shyly next to Poussey, laughing at something the singer had said. She was wearing a sleeveless red dress in the latest style, with the waistline falling loosely around her hips. Her long blonde hair looked out of place amidst the bobs and short finger-wave hairstyles worn by most of the women in the club, but that only made her stand out more. To Alex, Piper had never looked more alluring.

"Shit," Alex whispered, running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame it.

"Well, go on, tiger," Nicky shoved her playfully. "Go show the zebra your matching stripes."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Alex retorted.

Nicky chuckled. "Just that I know dyke drama when I see it."

Before Alex could reply, she received another shove on the arm. "All right!" she hissed at Nichols. "I'm going!"

She made her way across the room, feeling unusually nervous. The last time she'd seen Piper, she hadn't exactly been at her most charming. The stress of her job had been taking its toll on her, and seeing Piper with her fiancé had made her feel even more irritable. She was suddenly determined to make a better impression tonight.

When Piper saw the brunette approaching and smiled shyly, something in Alex's heart twisted at the sight.

"Hi," she said. _  
><em>

_"_Hi," the blonde replied.

"What are you doing here?"

"You kind of invited me back, remember?"

"Oh yeah, of course. I'm glad I didn't scare you away." And then, emboldened by the alcohol still running through her bloodstream, Alex leaned forward and kissed Piper on the cheek. It was a careful, chaste kiss, but it lingered a second longer than was appropriate for a greeting between friends, and when she pulled back she was gratified to see a slight blush coloring Piper's cheeks.

Recovering herself, the blonde gazed up at Alex. "Are you okay?" She asked. "You seemed kind of... odd, the other day. Not yourself."

"It's been kind of a difficult week around here."

"Oh." Piper looked slightly disappointed. "I though maybe it was... never mind."

"What?" Alex prompted.

"Nothing!"

"Come on, what were you going to say?" She demanded, laughing at the way Piper blushed and stuttered when confronted.

"I said, it's nothing!"

"But what were you _going_ to say?!"

"Just that... I thought maybe you were acting weird because you were... jealous."

Alex laughed even louder. "Jealous? Of Gary, the newspaper boy?"

"Please, Alex, you know very well that his name is Larry."

"Larry. Whatever."

"Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Jealous?"

Alex raised her eyebrows, still smirking, surprised by Piper's straightforwardness. Until this point the blonde has seemed naive; a bit coy, maybe, but definitely not this bold. "That's projection, Pipes," she replied, the nickname rolling off her tongue effortlessly, as if she'd known Piper far longer than just two weeks. "You _want_ me to be jealous."

"I don't!" Piper replied defensively, which only made Alex laugh harder.

"Whatever you say, kid," she teased. As she said this, however, her gaze slid past Piper's pouting face and locked on Poussey, who was now talking to a middle-aged black woman Alex had never seen before. Alex's expression darkened. "Shit," she whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"I think that's Vee."


	6. Chapter 6

"Poussey Washington."

The woman spoke her name in a slow, easy drawl, and Poussey instantly tensed. She'd been dreading this encounter all week, so much so that it had been affecting her performances. She'd never been prone to stage fright, but every night since Vee approached her she felt like her lungs were going to burst through her ribcage every time she drew breath to sing a line. When she placed her fingers against the smooth, worn ivory keys of the piano, they felt oddly and disconcertingly foreign. She was late picking up her harmonies on several verses and falling flat on even the simplest of them. Tasha and Cindy had thrown her looks of concern, but both had the grace not to made a big deal out of it. And now, finally, Vee was back for her answer.

"Yes?" Poussey replied, her slightly impatient tone betraying her reluctance to talk.

"You've had time to consider my offer." It was a statement, not a question. Whereas their last meeting had been cool and casual, Vee was making it clear that this time her reason for being here was all business.

"I have," Poussey agreed evasively, stalling for time. Through the dim light and haze of cigarette smoke, Poussey picked out Alex Vause's face and made eye contact. When Alex met her gaze, she immediately went pale. Poussey gave a barely perceptible nod and then refocused her attention on the woman in front of her, hoping Vause would warn the others.

"And?" Vee prompted. A thin smile crossed her mouth but did not reach her eyes. She had a disconcerting presence. Even when she smiled her features displayed no warmth, nor any sign of empathy. She was cold and regal as a stone statue, and Poussey did not trust her.

"I'm sorry, but I can't accept."

"Are you sure you've thought that all the way through?" The woman's voice was calm, but there was an iron undertone of warning that made the hair on the back of Poussey's neck stand up.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I know when I got it good."

"Oh?" Vee raised her eyebrows, feigning surprise. "And you think you have it good _here_?"

"Yeah," Poussey replied, no longer bothering to hide her annoyance. "I do. I've been singing here for six months, and every month we get a bigger crowd. Red wants to help my career. She does right by me."

"Listen to me, Poussey." Vee took a step closer, lowering her voice. "That Russian bitch doesn't care about you, and you're a fool for thinking she does. All she cares about is making money off you and your girls. Tasha and Cindy, right? Red doesn't care about your careers. She doesn't care about your happiness, your dignity. All she cares about is how many patrons you bring in. You up there singing for cents on the dollar, while she lines her pockets with cash. Now you tell me, is she really doing right by you?"

"It ain't like that!" Poussey stood up straighter, feeling hot anger lick the inside of her chest. "Red pays us a fair commission!"

"I doubt it. I'll pay you double."

"I told you, I'm not leaving. Besides, I ain't going anywhere without Cindy and Tasha. We're a team. You made a mistake by asking me and not all three of us."

"Clearly," Vee replied coldly. Her eyes were searching Poussey's face, as if looked for a weakness, a chink in the younger woman's armor; but Poussey stood her ground, her expression defiant. "All right, fine," Vee said with finality. "Have it your way. But girl, you're riding a sinking ship. And you just threw away your life raft."

She turned her back and walked calmly toward the door, disappearing up the basement stairs. After a brief moment, small, blonde-haired Tricia followed her out. That was the plan- to have Vee followed after she made contact at the club. Poussey had half a mind to follow the woman herself, stalk her as she passed out of the alleyway and then confront the bitch; ask her if she thought she could really buy Poussey's loyalty through intimidation, and at the expense of her friendships with Red's crew. Nothing in the world was more important to her than her singing partners; without them, she was nobody but another lonely jazz singer with a world of talent and nothing to show for it.

She resisted her rash impulse to follow and watched Tricia disappear through the door at the top of the stairs, realizing as she did so that her hands were still clenched into fists. She released them slowly, feeling the pulse of blood as circulation returned to her aching fingers. Sighing to relieve the tension in her chest, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her trousers.

"You okay?"

Poussey didn't have to turn around; she'd know that voice anywhere. She took another deep breath as Tasha laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, and leaned into her friend's touch. "I'm fine," she replied tunelessly.

"You can't let her get to you, P. It's what she wants."

"I know that."

"What did you tell her?"

"What do you _think_ I told her?" The words came out harsher than she meant them to, but she was stung by the accusation implicit in her friend's question. "You you really think I'd leave? That I'd sell out on you and Cindy? Come on, I thought you knew me better than that!"

Tasha looked taken aback by this outburst. Feeling ashamed at having taken her anger out on her singing partner, Poussey took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm sorry, Tash. Here." She opened her arms and enfolded the other girl in a long embrace. The contact was nice... and dangerous. Being too close to Tasha was dangerous. She was warm and soft and smelled like what home should smell like, and that thought made Poussey's heart beat faster with fear. In the months since they started singing together, an affection for Tasha had begun to grow in her that when beyond what a person should feel toward their friends. It wasn't right. It wasn't... normal. And yet, somehow that fluttering sensation Poussey felt in her chest when they hugged like this was the best thing she'd ever felt; an exhilarating, terrifying happiness she wanted to hold onto.

"You know I'd never leave you," she murmured, her face pressed against Tasha's shoulder.

"You mean you'd never leave _us_," the other girl corrected, pulling herself gently out of Poussey's embrace.

"That's what I mean," Poussey agreed, nervously. "You and me and Cindy. We're a team."

"Good," Tasha said, grinning suddenly. "Because I don't think I can sit through any more auditions. Before we found Cindy, I had a headache for a week and half! Remember that one girl?"

"The serious one that couldn't hit a single note?"

"That's the one! What was her name?"

Poussey whipped off her hat, pressed a finger against the bridge of her nose like she was pushing up a pair of invisible glasses, and fluttered her eyelashes. "Hello, Miss Jefferson," she said in a soft, proper voice. "My name is Mackenzie, and I would just _love_ to sing for you today!"

They both burst into laughter, the seriousness of the previous moment forgotten.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong?" Piper asked, concerned by the sudden shift in Alex's demeanor.<p>

"I think that's Vee," Alex whispered, her face growing pale.

"Who's Vee?" When the brunette didn't reply, she tried again. "Alex? Am I missing something."

"Wait here, okay?"

"What? Where are you going? Alex-"

"Just wait here!" The brunette disappeared, leaving Piper standing alone with her drink in hand, feeling rather foolish. She had no idea what was going on, but considering that Alex had gone from playful teasing to looking like she'd seen a ghost, it was apparently pretty serious. Piper wracked her brain, trying to come up with a logical explanation for this behavior. What was it Alex had said about being stressed out this week? Maybe something was wrong with her importing business. Maybe Vee was a client she was supposed to be meeting with, or-

"Sorry, kid." Alex reappeared in front of her suddenly, and Piper jumped in surprise, causing the drink in her hand to slosh over the sides of the glass and right onto her dress.

"Oh shit, Pipes, your dress. I'm really sorry!" There was a stain spreading slowly over the red fabric covering the blonde's stomach. "I'll find a napkin, hold on." She picked up a cloth from the nearest table and, without thinking, reached out and pressed her left hand against the small of Piper's back to draw her closer. With the napkin in her right hand, she began to blot at the wet fabric of the dress.

When Alex's fingers pressed against her back, Piper sucked in a sharp breath, surprised by the unexpected contact. She considered pulling away, but Alex's grip was firm and insistent, and the contact felt... _nice_. She bit her bottom lip to keep from speaking, though she flinched slightly when the napkin was pressed against her stomach. The gesture was oddly intimate, but not unwelcome. "Alex..."

"I don't think it's going to stain."

"Alex." Piper reached down and slid her fingers around the brunette's wrist, pulling it gently away from her body. Alex looked up to meet Piper's eyes, enjoying the look of confusion and intrigue she found staring back at her. Aware that she still had one hand pressed against Piper's back, she tensed her fingers experimentally, testing for a response. She was not disappointed; Piper inhaled sharply and took an involuntary step forward, closing the gap between them.

"Are you always this jumpy?" Alex's voice was pitched low, her tone playfully seductive.

"I..." Piper struggled to come up with a response, and the brunette lifted her eyebrows in amusement, smirking. She let her hand drop and stepped back, allowing Piper to recover with a little more grace.

The blonde cleared her throat and busied herself with smoothing her dress and inspecting the damage. "What was that about?" She said, finally, finding her words again,

"What, I can't help a pretty girl dry off her dress? And women complain about chivalry being dead!"

"Not that! You, disappearing. Who's Vee?"

"Oh, _that_." Alex frowned. "Don't worry about it."

"Does it have something to do with how stressed you've been this week?" Piper persisted, too curious to let the matter drop.

"Something to do with it, yes."

"Are you always this evasive?"

Alex laughed at that. "Only with you," she teased. "Listen, Piper, I don't want to talk about business. I just want to enjoy the fact that I'm here, with you, on my night off. Okay?"

"Okay," Piper agreed reluctantly, "but you owe me another drink."

Laughing, Alex placed her hand on the small of Piper's back again, this time to steer her toward the bar. Piper's reaction to her touch wasn't quite as palpable as before, but as they walked she was gratified to feel the blonde relax into the contact. When they reached the bar she called out for Nicky, who was wiping down glasses at the other end of the counter.

They never got to order their drinks, however; there a sudden commotion at the entrance of the club. Mercy, one of Red's younger girls, was stumbling down the stairs two at a time, panting heavily. "Nicky!" She called out, practically running across the room. "Nicky, it's Mendez!"

"Fucking hell," the bushy-haired bartender cursed, throwing her dishrag down on the counter. "How much time do we have?"

Mercy shook her head. "Yuri's stalling him, but he won't be able to hold him off for long."

"Alright," Nicky raised her voice, though the entire bar was now quiet, hanging on her every word. "Everybody out the back door! We're closed for the night!"

This pronouncement shattered the silence, and the bar was suddenly filled with the sounds of panicked voices as people began to pull on hats and coats and head for the exit.

"Shit," Alex whispered. "Piper, we have to go."

"What? What's going on?"

"I'll explain later. We've gotta go!"

"You can't expect me to just-"

"Piper!" Alex's voice was like steel, all of the playfulness gone. "Now. Please."

Confused and frightened, all Piper could do was nod as Alex grabbed her hand and yanked her toward the back of the bar, out of the way of the crowd.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This fic is Vauseman centric, but I couldn't resist throwing in a little Poussey/Taystee unrequited love because I adore those two! If you have any opinions on that (if you like it, or if you feel like it detracts from the rest of the story) please let me know. Reviews are always appreciated! More Litchfield characters are on their way... **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This chapter took me a couple of days to write, sorry about that. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Piper allowed herself to be tugged behind the bar, into Red's office. The Russian woman was shuffling stacks of paper around in a panic; transaction ledgers, Piper realized, documents that would be incriminating if they were found by the wrong people. Behind the desk was a narrow doorway which would normally have been concealed by a bookshelf. Piper gaped; she'd thought that whole swinging bookcase, secret compartment thing was a joke. Nicky burst through the door behind them, lugging a crate filled with various bottle alcohol, everything she could carry from the bar in one trip. She disappearing through the doorway into the dim room beyond, before reappearing empty-handed.<p>

"How much time?" Red asked, without looking up.

"Five minutes, tops!" Nicky set the crate down and ran back out the door again.

Piper was dying to ask what was going on, but the look on Red's face was so severe that she didn't dare.

"You go, Vause," Red instructed, without pausing in her efforts. "Nicky and I will deal with this."

Alex nodded. "You know where I'll be waiting."

Piper felt the brunette's fingers close around her wrist again, pulling her forward through the door to the secret room. A smuggler's den, Piper realized as they entered, nearly tripping on one of the boxes Nicky had just hauled in and left on the floor. The whole scene felt like something out of a penny dreadful. She was in so much trouble.

Alex knelt down and pushed aside a stack of heavy-looking boxes, revealing a small tunnel cut into the concrete wall. Piper thought she was to be congratulated for keeping her mouth shut at this reveal, especially when Alex tugged her to her knees and gestured for her to go first. She shot the brunette a withering look- as if to say, _are you fucking kidding me?_ - but did as she was instructed. The tunnel was perfectly dark inside, especially with Piper's figure blocking out the dim, distant light from Red's office. She was forced to feel her way forward in the dark, inching herself along the hard and uneven floor. She could feel the thin nylon of her stockings tear as she crawled, and knew she would have bruises tomorrow from the way her knees were knocking against the ground. Piper could hear Alex breathing right behind her as they moved forward in unison. The tunnel must have gone on for forty or fifty feet; it opened out abruptly into a tiny, windowless room.

Piper clambered heavily to her feet, her knees and shoulders aching. She couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Alex," she whispered urgently, "you have to tell me what's going on!"

"Not now!" the brunette hissed. She was moving, searching in her coat for something.

"What are you doing?" Piper demanded. "Alex, I just crawled through a tunnel like I'm in a Sherlock fucking Holmes story! What the _fuck_ is going on?"

In the dark, Alex reached for her hand. Piper almost pulled it away, but Alex's fingers were gentle this time, warm and damp against her palm.

"Piper, I promise I'm going to explain everything as soon as I can. But I need you to keep calm right now, and come with me."

"Where are we going?"

Alex gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "We have to disappear," she whispered, her voice impossibly calm.

The enormity of what was happening hit Piper all at once and she felt suddenly breathless, like all the air was rushing out of her lungs. Her heart was pounding and she could taste bile rising in the back of her throat. "I don't think I can do this." Her voice quavered, and she felt like she was going to be sick. "Alex, I don't think I handle this."

"You can," Alex replied firmly.

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't. Oh God, I'm a fugitive! I'm going to end up in prison!"

"Piper!" The brunette took her other hand, holding them both firmly in the space between their bodies. They were very close now, almost face-to-face, but in the darkness Piper couldn't see anything. "You're not going to prison. The police weren't there to arrest _you_. They're there for Red."

"Then why do we have to disappear?"

"Because we might be followed. Listen," she went on hurriedly, hearing Piper's panicked gulp of breath, "You're going to be fine. This is what I do, okay? I smuggle things. I move things around the city without getting caught. I'm going to get us out of here, to someplace safe." She stroked her thumbs over the backs of Piper's fingers. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Piper whispered, and realized that it was true; she did trust her, despite the fact that they were on the run from the law, and that it was Alex's fault in the first place for bringing her to a speakeasy and getting her involved with a crew of smugglers. Because if she was completely honest with herself, there was something inside Piper Chapman that wanted this excitement, this danger. There was something in her that gravitated toward Alex the rum-runner, and everything that title implied. She had felt it on the first night they'd met, and she felt it again now; a sense of self-realization that only Alex had ever conjured up in her. The idea that she could have more than just a happy home and a hard-working husband; that she could have _life_ instead.

"We have to leave now," Alex told her, and she nodded. "We have to walk for a while. I need you to stay calm, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm just walking you home. You were out late and I'm walking you back to your apartment, like the night we met."

"Okay," Piper repeated, trying to keep the quaver from her voice.

Alex gave her hands one last squeeze of reassurance and then let go, searching through her pockets until she found what she was looking for. She pushed open the door, and the two of them stepped out into the chill evening. Piper inhaled deeply, still feeling short of breath and grateful for the fresh air. Alex turned, key in hand, and locked the door behind them. They were in a different alleyway than the one that housed the club's entrance, and Piper was so overwhelmed and disoriented that she wasn't sure what direction they'd come from.

"Let's get you home, little Red Riding Hood," Alex said softly, offering the crook of her arm just like she'd done on Piper's first night in New York. Despite her nerves, the blonde felt herself smile. Once again, her poor sense of direction made her reliant on Alex's knowledge of the city. She placed herself in the brunette's capable hands.

They walked without speaking, emerging from the alley onto a quiet, dimly lit street. Piper was doing her best to keep the panic from rising in her chest and maintain a steady pace. She hardly paid attention to where they were going, letting Alex guide her while she concentrating on keeping her shit together. Once, she thought she heard footsteps and started to turn around, but Alex pulled hard on her arm and shook her head warningly. A few moments later they came upon an empty cab; as soon as they climbed into the back seat and closed the door, Piper felt better knowing they'd be putting some distance between themselves and whoever might be following them.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"Grand Central," Alex replied smoothly. "We're catching a train to Brooklyn."

_'Brooklyn?'_ Piper mouthed in confusion, but Alex just shook her head and leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes as the cab pulled away from the curb.

When they got to the station, however, Alex seemed to have changed her mind. When she returned from the ticket counter, she and Piper boarded a train bound for Queens instead.

"I thought you said Brooklyn?" Piper said as they sat down in the last car, the seats around them empty except for one other passenger.

"I did, didn't I?" Alex smiled mysteriously. When Piper continued to stare at her in confusion, she relented. "We were being followed before we got in the cab. If anyone asks the driver, he'll tell send them looking in the wrong direction."

"Who was following us? Police?"

Alex frowned. "I don't think so. They were dressed too casually. It was probably someone from Vee's crew."

"Are you going to tell me who Vee is? Or should I just keep asking every time you bring her up." Despite her still-pounding heart, Piper was starting to get annoyed by the lack of information. She didn't like being dragged around in the dark without any knowing why. "You promised you'd explain everything."

Alex relented. In a hushed tone, she told Piper everything that had been going on for the last week; that another speakeasy had been set up on their turf; how Vee had approached Poussey and attempted to lure her away from Red's; how she, Alex, had been working like a damn mule to try and get the import deals in place to keep the club in business.

"So you think Vee called the police?" Piper whispered, when Alex was done.

The brunette shrugged. "I guess she lost patience with the long game. Decided to shut us down the old-fashioned way. But, fuck, I wish it hadn't been Mendez."

"He's the policeman?"

"Head inspector in our district. He has quite a reputation in the underground market. He's taken down more smuggling rings than any inspector in the city. And he's a fucking bastard."

"Is Red going to be okay?"

Alex didn't answer. She looked out the window instead, and then checked her watch. "This is our stop."

When they left the station, they walked several more blocks in the dark. Alex reached for Piper's hand, and it was strange how normal it felt to walk down the street with their fingers twined together. Despite the danger they were in, walking with Alex, having the warm presence of her body and her palm pressed against into Piper's, made the blonde feel safe.

They reached the building that was their apparent destination, climbing several seldom-used stairs and leaving footprints in the dust that had accumulated on the old, scratched wood. When Alex produced a key and opened the apartment at the top of the building, the room their found themselves in was little more than an attic. Dusty old sheets covered the furniture and parts of the floor, and the windows were heavily shuttered.

"No lights," Piper commented dryly.

"No electricity," Alex confirmed. "I don't live here. This is just the safe house. In the event that shit happens, we're all supposed to meet here to regroup. I think I left some candles here somewhere..." She started pulling the dust-covers off the furniture and rifling through the cabinet drawers, finally producing a stubby candle and a book of matches. Piper sank to the floor, exhausted, her feet throbbing painfully; the shoes she'd worn tonight were made for dancing, not walking. It was chilly in the attic, and she shivered in her bare-sleeved dress. Fear had kept her body tense for the last few hours, and now that she let herself relax she found that she couldn't stop shaking.

"Hey." Alex was bending over her, her face a mask of concern. She lifted one hand and laid her palm against the side of Piper's face, brushing the blonde's cheek gently with her thumb. "You're safe now, okay? We'll stay here for the night, and figure things out in the morning."

"Alex... I-'

"It's okay, Pipes. Here." Alex unbuttoned her coat, shrugged it off her shoulders, and offered it to Piper. The blonde took it gratefully, sliding her arms into sleeves and clutching the front closed over her chest. When she looked up, Alex was grinning.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just... it's big on you." Piped glanced down and realized that Alex was right. The end of the sleeves were bunched around her wrists to keep them from covering her hands. She smiled, and Alex chuckled. She raised her hand to stroke Piper's cheek again. "I like the way you look in my clothes." Her low, raspy whisper was practically a purr, and Piper felt her skin break out in goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chilly air. Alex was leaning closer now, her face half-hidden by shadows in the flickering candlelight.

"Alex..." The look in the brunette's eyes shut Piper up abruptly, and she swallowed the rest of her sentence, her mouth suddenly dry.

She barely had time to take a breath before the distance closed between them and Alex's lips pressed against hers. The kiss was gentle but insistent; the taller woman's fingers slid up the back of Piper's neck, tangling in the locks of hair at her nape and pulling her closer. Piper felt hot and cold all at once, as if she were burning up with fever. After a moment the kiss broke, and Piper closed her eyes, only to inhale sharply when she felt Alex's lips touch the corner of her mouth and trail along her jawline before pressing against her neck. The feeling of Alex nuzzling insistently at the soft skin of her throat was overwhelming, and she clutched at the brunette's shoulders, pulling her away.

Alex stared back at her, eyes smoldering, pupils widened in the dim candlelight. She didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes was hungry and unapologetic. This was wrong, Piper knew; she was engaged, and Alex was not Larry. But something in her could not resist her attraction to the woman in front of her, and she found herself leaning forward, initiating another kiss, hot and tense and full of promise.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's following this story, and especially to those of you who continue to leave reviews! This update is a little short, but I wanted to get something up. I'm open to any feedback, suggestions, etc. Love you guys.**

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><p>When Alex awoke, the first thing she noticed was that it was still dark. The second thing was that she couldn't feel her left arm, because Piper Chapman's torso was on top of it. She tried to flex her fingers, and was rewarded with the disconcerting sensation of not knowing whether they'd so much as twitched.<p>

They were lying on the carpeted floor, sharing the only clean blanket Alex had been able to find in the bare attic apartment. Alex's coat was thrown on top for an extra layer of warmth. The brunette had evidently fallen asleep with her arms around Piper, because her left hand was now pinned and the rest of her body was angled toward the woman beside her. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should extricate herself and put some space between them before Piper woke up; but it was still cold in the pre-dawn morning, and the body beside her radiated warmth. Sighing softly, Alex rolled onto her side and shimmied her torso into place against Piper's, draping her arm carefully over the blonde's stomach until they were nestled like a pair of spoons beneath the blanket.

Alex found herself thinking over everything that had happened the previous evening; in particular, the chain of events that had led she and Piper to assume their present positions on on the floor. She wasn't sure if Piper had ever been with a woman before, and kissing her had been risky; daring, even. What if the blonde had responded badly? It would have been a catastrophic ending to an already bad day. And yet, the way Piper had responded to Alex's touches at the bar, the way she answered the brunette's teasing questions with a slightly flushed smile... it felt very much like Piper was flirting with her, even if it was unintentional. The kiss proved it; not only did Piper seem to like it, but she had kissed Alex back with surprising enthusiasm.

Alex found herself smiling lazily at the memory of Piper's warm breath on her cheek, and the sweet taste of her mouth. Her heart began to beat faster, her skin growing warmer by the second. Piper's bare shoulder was just inches away, and the urge to press her lips against the sleeping woman's skin was suddenly overwhelming. Alex compromised by lifting her hand from the blonde's stomach and trailing her fingertips across the exposed flesh of her upper arm. Piper made a soft mewling noise in her sleep, and Alex's smile widened.

"Piper," she whispered. The blonde made a groggy noise and shifted slightly, clearly awake now.

"Piiiiiper."

"Hmmm?"

"I can't feel my arm."

Piper's eyelids fluttered opened halfway. "What?"

"My arm. It's gone numb, because you're lying on it."

"Oh. Sorry," she mumbled groggily. She rolled over, freeing Alex's arm but pulling the entire blanket onto herself in the process.

Alex dragged her numb arm back to her side and tried flexing her fingers again. She winced at the sensation as the feeling in her hand came flooding back. "Ow... hey!" She huffed, realization the blanket was gone and that Piper had rolled herself up inside it like a cocoon. "Not fair, it's freezing out here!"

Piper said nothing, but as Alex propped herself up on her elbow she saw a satisfied little smile on the blonde's face.

"Piper, let me in," Alex ordered.

Defiantly, Piper pulled the blanket tighter, her eyes firmly closed.

The brunette lowered her head until her lips were right behind Piper's ear, and spoke in her huskiest, most commanding timbre. "Let. Me. In."

This had the desired effect; Piper's eyes opened, and she gave Alex a sheepish smile while loosening her grip on the blanket. Alex scooted herself back underneath it and sighed in satisfaction. "Thank you, _Sleeping Beauty," _she teased, causing Piper's smile to widen further.

"Are you just going to keep calling me fairy tale names?"

"Hey, if the shoe fits..." This remark earned Alex a playful shove.

"It's really cold in here," Piper complained, pressing herself up against Alex's side. That little maneuver prompted an intake of breath; Alex could feel the soft swell of Piper's breasts through the thin layers of clothing between them.

"Sorry kid," she said, feigning composure. "No one lives here, so no one pays the heating bill."

"So this really isn't your place?"

Alex arched a quizzical eyebrow. "Do you think I sleep on the floor every night?"

"No! Of course not. I'm sorry, I just asked without thinking."

"I have a bed, you know," Alex replied slowly.

"God, Alex, I wasn't-"

"I get the impression that you think I sleep on the street, or something," she interrupted. She folded her hands beneath the back of her head, staring at the ceiling as she spoke. "I know I'm not a classy dame like your grandmother, and I know you're used to that high society, old money thing. You've probably never slept on a floor before, right? But I have a job, Piper, and I'm good at it. Like, _really_ fucking good at it. And it pays, more than you'd think."

"I'm sorry," Piper said softly, propping herself up so that she could see the brunette's face. "That was a stupid thing to say."

The brunette continued to stare at the ceiling. The topic of money, and the privilege it conferred, was a sore subject for Alex. She'd been raised by a single mother who'd spent most of Alex's childhood working as a maid for a wealthy family that was probably very similar to Piper's. On the rare occasions that Alex went with her to the house of her employer, she'd had to watch her mother curtsey and bow her head and tip-toe around the members of the family like they were fucking royalty. The pay had been awful, and her mother had taken in laundry on Sundays to earn what little extra she could. She'd never had a day off in her life, while the people she worked for seemed to over-exert themselves just by opening a door. When Alex pictured Piper's family, that's what she saw; a band of sanctimoniously wealthy little shits, parading around their massive house while the people they employed bowed and scraped and just barely got by on a meager wage.

"Alex, I'm really sorry," Piper repeated, looking worried.

"It's fine," Alex replied, her tone carefully even. "I mean, it was pretty condescending, but..." It wasn't Piper's fault that she was raised to be so naive. "I forgive you."

"Thank you." Piper moved closer, laying her head on Alex's shoulder. Alex sighed and laid her free hand on top of Piper's head, stroking gently at the blonde locks beneath her fingers. They laid like that for several minutes, and Alex was beginning to feel quite sleepy again before she tensed at a sudden noise; there were footsteps on the stairwell.

"Fuck," she whispered, springing up and clambering to her feet. She pulled open a drawer on one of the storage chests, fumbled around for a moment, and then withdraw a small silver revolver. Piper watched, wide-eyed, as Alex checked that the chambers were loaded and then pointed the gun at the door. She raised a finger to her lips, indicating that Piper should keep quiet.

They heard the sound of the lock mechanism turned, and Alex tightened her grip on the revolver and swallowed, her mouth dry. The door swung open. It was Nichols, supporting a battered and bloody figure that Alex recognized after a few seconds as Tricia, the girl who'd been sent to follow Vee.

Alex swore again and lowered the gun. Piper, on her feet by now, hurried forward to help. She and Nicky eased Tricia down onto an old, tattered sofa. Lacking sterile cloths, Piper dragged one of the old furniture sheets over to the faucet and wet the clean underside of it, then returned to dab at Tricia's face. Most of the blood around her nose and mouth was dry by now; one of her eyes was swollen shut, and the rest of her face was a mess of bruises.

"What happened?" Alex demanded, rounding on Nichols.

"They fucking jumped her," Nicky replied furiously. "Vee's crew. Like, three or four of them. The one who did this-" she indicated Tricia's battered face- "is apparently named Suzanne."

"She..." Tricia coughed, the effort of speaking nearly too much for her. "She had... crazy eyes. Like... insane."

"Jesus!" Alex started to pace around the room, unable to contain her nervous energy. "Did you find out where they were going? Where they're operating out of?"

Tricia shook her head miserably, and Alex let out a shaking breath. "Okay, it's okay. Fuck! What about Red?"

This time it was Nicky's turn to shake her head. "She's not going to make it over here."

"Did they arrest her?"

"No, but they took their sweet time combing through her office, and now I'm guessing they've got her under surveillance. We can't be seen with her, at least not for a few days."

The silence that followed this pronouncement was total, each of them considering what they were supposed to do without their leader to guide them.

"What do we do now?" Alex asked after a moment, staring plaintively at Nicky, who shrugged.

"Go home, I guess. And wait for Red to send us a message."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Wow, I'm so thrilled by the response this story had gotten since I posted the last chapter! Thank you so much for reading, following, and especially reviewing. I've hit a bit of a roadblock after this chapter; I know what I want to happen, but I'm still trying to figure out how to get there. Hopefully you can all be patient with me while I sort it out! **

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><p>By the time Piper and Alex stepped off the train back in Manhattan, the sun had risen. Piper was feeling more exhausted with every step. Last night's flight from the speakeasy had left her knees a mess of bruises, and her feet were sore and aching from walking such a long distance in uncomfortable, heeled shoes. Having had only a few hours of sleep on a cold, uncomfortable attic floor, she was ready to get back to her grandmother's apartment and collapse into bed. Alex, however, had other plans.<p>

"Piper, you can't go home looking like that," the brunette informed her.

"Like what?" Piper said defensively.

"Like _that_!"

"You're going to have to be a little more specific, Alex! You just gestured at _all_ of me!"

"Your dress is ruined." Piper glanced down, gathered a fistful of fabric in each hand and lifted it mournfully. Alex was right - it was filthy. Her tights were ripped, too. "If you go home wearing that, your grandmother is going to think you got mugged, or kidnapped, or worse!"

"What could be worse than getting kidnapped!?" Piper snapped. This was, she thought, all Alex's fault. If she hadn't made them crawl through that stupid smuggler's tunnel, her clothes would still look presentable, and she'd be halfway home by now. "What do you suggest I do about it? Since you seem to have a plan for everything," she added, resentfully.

"Jesus, Piper, I'm trying to help you! Just... come back to my place. I live pretty close to your grandmother. We'll find you something else to wear, and then I'll walk you home."

Piper glared at her, tempted to refuse out of pure spite. She didn't understand how Alex could act as if nothing had happened; as if her employer weren't practically under house arrest, her business collapsing before their eyes. "How do you do this?" She demanded, almost angrily.

"Do what?"

"Stay this calm all the time! Aren't you worried about Red and the others?"

Alex let out a low growl and grabbed Piper's hand, pulling her away from the subway station entrance and out of earshot of bystanders. "Of course I'm fucking worried! That's my family, Piper! But we all knew what we were getting into when we started this business. Yes, it's dangerous; and yeah, we were -this- close to getting caught. But getting scared and crying about it isn't going to help! This is who I am. This is what I do. I've had a lot of practice." She took Piper's hand in hers again, more gently this time. "Come back with me. Let me find you some clean clothes, okay?"

Piper nodded; whenever Alex spoke in that soft, low tone, she felt compelled to agree to anything she asked. And anyway, her anger had evaporated, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. She followed Alex away from the subway station, walking for several blocks until they reached Alex's building and went inside.

The apartment was small but beautiful, warm and inviting where her grandmother's was out-dated and forbidding. The furnishings were new, the lines cleaner and more modern than the antiques Piper was often surrounded by; Alex clearly cared little for delicacy, preferring instead to surround herself with comfort. Rich, dark fabrics were draped over large south-facing windows, and several framed paintings adorned the walls.

Piper hesitated in the doorway, feeling suddenly intrusive. The idea of being in Alex's apartment together, alone, felt oddly intimate.

"Who are you, Count Dracula?" Alex teased, glancing up at Piper as as she removed her coat. "Do you need a special invitation?"

Piper blushed slightly and stepped over the threshold. Her attention was drawn to the collection of paintings. They were startlingly modern; it seemed Alex was a big fan of the surrealist movement. Piper examined one with particular interest. "Salvador Dali?"

"You sound surprised," Alex arched an eyebrow, but her poorly concealed smile betrayed the fact that she looked pleased with herself.

"I guess I didn't take you for a patron of the arts. What's the piece called?"

"Cabaret Scene. It's not an original," Alex added. "I don't smuggle oil paintings... yet." She winked, and Piper found herself smiling back. "There's a gallery I like to go to sometimes," the brunette continued, hanging her coat on the hat stand by the door. "They had an opening a few weeks ago of up-and-coming artists, mostly surrealist. I fell in love with this piece, so I brought a reproduction of it."

"I'm not surprised you liked it, given the subject matter," Piper said pointedly. The painting featured people in various states of drunkenness, including the figure of a naked woman sitting astride the lap of her date.

"Life imitates art, right?" Alex chuckled, and Piper felt herself starting to relax again. She liked seeing Alex like this; playful, humorous, charming. She was different when she working, or worrying about her business, when the stress of her job made her tense. But even then, there was something alluring about her. The danger was part of what made her so... so... _fuck_. The memory of their kiss sprang into Piper's mind, unbidden, and she felt very flushed all of a sudden.

"You okay, Pipes?" Alex was standing in front of her, green eyes searching Piper's expression, trying to interpret it. She raised one hand, as if she were about to place it against Piper's cheek, but the blonde took a confused step back.

"I'm fine," she said quietly. "Fine. Do you, um, have a dress or something I could borrow?"

Alex stared at her for a moment, her lips pressed thinly together. She looked... _disappointed,_ Piper realized. Then she nodded, and gestured for Piper to follow her into the bedroom. Most of the room was taken up by a large, canopy bed, draped in swaths of maroon fabric. When Alex caught Piper staring at it, she smirked. "See? Told you I have a bed."

Piper blushed, something she found herself doing a lot while in Alex's company. The brunette rummaged through the drawers of her wardrobe for a moment, finally producing a long skirt and a conservative, bland-looking cardigan. Piper raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"What?" Alex asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I just can't imagine you wearing that."

"Why not?"

"Well it's not exactly your style, Alex. I've never seen you in anything that isn't black."

The brunette grinned. "Been paying a lot of attention to what I wear, huh?" She set the clothes down on the bed and then took several steps toward Piper, closing the gap between them. Piper's mouth had gone dry again; they were much too close together.

"Alex..." The taller woman didn't reply, but quirked one eyebrow in challenge, as if daring the blonde to finish her sentence. She took a long breath, gathering her courage. "About last night..."

"Last night? You're going to have to be more specific."

"When we- when you..." Piper stammered, too embarrassed to say the words. She swallowed, and then said, slowly, "you kissed me."

Alex didn't say anything, but the look of amusement was gone from her face, and she seemed suddenly tense.

"Why did you do that?" Piper asked finally, biting her lip.

Alex blinked. "You kissed me back, Piper."

Piper didn't know what to say; it was true. She had kissed Alex back. And she was afraid to admit that she'd like it. "I think maybe it was the adrenaline," she said uncertainly. "You know, because we'd just run away from the police. I got carried away."

Alex pursed her lips, eyes narrowed. "That's bullshit, and you know it." Her tone was surprisingly forceful, and Piper was taken aback. She opened her mouth to say something in reply, but her words were swallowed by Alex's parted lips as the brunette pulled her forward into another searing kiss. Whereas last night it had been leisurely and gentle, this was different, desperate and hungry and wanting. She felt Alex's tongue against her lips and she parted them in compliance, unable to think. She found herself being steered backwards and pushed down onto the bed. Alex's hands found every bit of exposed skin they could touch, trailing first over her neck and then across her bare shoulders, sliding the straps of her dress down and out of the way before replacing her hands with her mouth.

"Alex," Piper panted, her fingers tangled in the dark tresses of hair. She felt an insistent hand slide down her torso and then back up again, cupping her breast through the fabric of her shirt. It was all too much, and she clutched at Alex's wrist, pulling her hand away. The brunette continued to place open-mouthed kisses over every inch of skin she could reach, and Piper let out a pained whimper.

"Alex," she panted, "stop. We have to stop!"

Alex stilled, her face still pressed into the crook of Piper's neck, her breath warm and tantalizing against the skin of her throat. She stayed like that for several seconds, as if gathering her restraint. Then she sat up slowly, lips still parted with desire, and looked down at Piper.

"I'm engaged," Piper whispered. Alex closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again, exhaling heavily.

"I know," she said finally.

"I can't do this."

"I know. But you want to," she added. Her tone wasn't mean or malicious; it was calm, as if simply stating a fact.

Piper nodded, feeling utterly miserable. She had never been as attracted to anyone as she was in this moment. Her skin was on fire, and there was an ache in her that ran deeper than anything she'd ever felt before.

"I can't," she whispered, and closed her eyes, unable to face the look of disappointment in Alex's gaze.

A few moments later she was standing in Alex's doorway, dressed in the borrowed skirt and cardigan. They were slightly big on her, but with luck her grandmother wouldn't notice. She would probably be too furious about the fact that Piper never came home last night to spare a thought for her granddaughter's attire.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you home?" Alex asked, but her voice was distant, hollow, and they both knew the offer was merely a courtesy. Piper shook her head. Alex moved to close the door, and then paused.

"Piper," she began, hesitantly. "Maybe we shouldn't see each other again."

"Oh," Piper whispered. Her heart gave a painful squeeze, but she didn't know what else to say. Some part of her knew that Alex was probably right; hanging around with a rum-runner had been a bad idea to begin with. She came to New York to be with Larry, and the more time she spent around Alex, the more she lost sight of that. Of him. But that didn't make this hurt any less. "If that's what you want," she said, weakly.

"It doesn't matter what I want, does it?" Alex replied irritably. "You're engaged. I get it. I'm sure he's a great guy." Her flat tone betrayed this as a complete lie.

"Alex..."

"It's only a few blocks to your grandmother's house, I'm sure you can find it okay."

"Don't do this," Piper whispered. "I thought we were friends."

"I like you, Piper. But I can't be your friend."

Piper swallowed, blinking back tears. "What about your clothes?" she asked, desperately.

"You can keep them." For a moment Alex looked like she was about to say something else. Then, her face a cold mask of resolve, she shook her head and swung the door closed.

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><p>By the time Piper arrived back at her grandmother's apartment, it was already late morning. She dragged herself wearily through the building door, fitting her key into the lock, and stumbled through the foyer into the parlor.<p>

"Piper!" Her grandmother screeched, and she was enveloped on a desperate hug. "Thank God you're alright!" The smell of her grandmother's perfume was cloying, and she wanted nothing more than to make her apologies and escape to her bedroom for some much-needed solitude. She'd underestimated the worry her absence had caused, however, because when her grandmother finally released her, she realized that they weren't alone.

Two police officers had been sitting on the sofa and were now getting to their feet. One of them was sporting a bushy mustache, the rest of his face clean-shaven. "Miss Chapman," he greeted, removing his hat. "You grandmother has been very worried about you." His tone was annoyingly patronizing, and Piper narrowed her eyes in immediate dislike.

"I'm sorry, officer...?"

"Inspector Mendez," he informed her, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

Piper felt all the breath leave her lungs in a mad rush. _Inspector Mendez? Fuck! _The exact officer who'd busted Red's place last night was now standing in her living room.

Everyone was staring at her, apparently expecting her to respond. "Inspector," she said in a weak voice, managing a clumsy little curtsey.

"Miss Chapman, where have you been?" Mendez's partner asked her, his tone indicating genuine concern. This man looked slightly younger, his eyes kinder.

"I was..." _Shit_. She'd left Alex's apartment in such a miserable mood that she'd forgotten to come up with alibi. "I was out with a friend last night and I lost track of time. I didn't want to walk home in the dark. I... I haven't lived here very long, and I get lost easily." Piper was pleased with herself for managing to sound relatively calm while answering. This was all true, anyway. It _had_ been dark, and she _did_ get lost easily.

"Why didn't you take a cab?" Mendez pressed her, and she felt her face growing warm.

"I didn't have any money to pay the driver."

"Why didn't you telephone your grandmother and ask her to send a car?"

"Because... because my friend doesn't have a telephone." This was plausible, she thought; telephones were expensive, and not everyone had them installed in their buildings yet. Come to think of it, she had no idea if Alex had a telephone or not.

"I see," Mendez replied. He was scribbling notes on a small pad of paper. "What is the name of your friend, Miss Chapman?"

_Shit_. Should she make something up? Give them a false name? Her grandmother was staring at her, wide-eyed. She tried to remember if she'd ever mentioned Alex to Celeste, and realized to her horror that she had, a couple of days ago. She was trapped. She couldn't lie. "Alex," she said, swallowing nervously. "Alexandra Vause."

She thought she saw a flicker of recognition cross the inspector's features, but maybe it was simply her paranoia playing tricks on her. Mendez wrote down the name, and then flipped the pad closed, stowing it in his pocket. "Well," he said in a falsely cheerful voice, "I love a happy ending, don't you, Bennett?" He glanced at his partner, who smiled at Piper.

"I'm glad to see that you're home safe and sound, Miss Chapman." Bennett tipped his hat at her, and then both officers made for the foyer.

Piper's grandmother followed them out. She could hear them talking in the hall, but she didn't absorb a word of their conversation. Her heart was pounding, and she was too busy trying to absorb what had just happened. Officer Mendez, public enemy number one to New York criminals and particularly vexing to Red's crew, had just interrogated her. And she had named Alex. _I am so fucking stupid_, she thought, desperately.

As soon as the inspectors were gone, Piper skidded out into the foyer and snatched her coat off the hook, intending to run back to Alex's apartment and warn her about what had just happened.

"Piper, what on earth are you doing?" Her grandmother stared at her, looking shocked.

"I have to go out," she replied automatically, pulling on her coat.

"Absolutely not! You were out all night! What could possibly be so urgent that you need to attend to it this very instant?"

Piper opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't come up with a plausible explanation.

"You take that coat off right now! I forbid you from going anywhere. What you need is a warm bath, and then a good long nap. We can talk about this later."

Utterly defeated, Piper slid the coat back off her shoulders and marched miserably up the stairs to her bedroom, praying that she hadn't just ruined everything.


	10. Chapter 10

"Shit, Vause, what have you been doing in here?" Nicky pushed past Alex into the apartment, surveying the mess in the sitting room with a mildly impressed expression. "I'm pretty sure you have more empty booze bottles on your table than I usually have behind the bar."

Alex shrugged, feigning indifference. "Poussey was here earlier. She brought some of her stuff over."

"And you actually drank it? For a rum-runner, you have terrible taste. I can't stomach that coffin varnish."

"Don't be an ass. It's her hobby. And it's not that bad." She closed the door behind her friend, feeling a little unsteady on her feet but determined to do her best impression of sobriety.

"Whatever you say." Nicky slumped down on the settee and, without so much as a by-your-leave, swept aside the rubbish on the table and settled her feet on it. "Where's blondie?"

Alex sank into her favorite armchair and grabbed the nearest bottle. "With her fiancé, probably." She took a long drink, avoiding Nicky's gaze.

"Last time I checked, the two of you were looking pretty cozy with each other."

Alex gave a noncommittal grunt. Nicky's eyes widened in response. "Oh, fuck," she sighed. "You actually have feelings for her."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I've told you a thousand times not to get involved with women like her!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means! Wealthy, connected girls like that don't fall for girls like us, Vause. They like the attention, sure. Maybe a little peck on the cheek, maybe some heavy petting in a dark corner, just to see what it feels like. It's exotic. A novelty. And then when they're done, they go back home to their husbands and act like it never happened, and we're left here trying to pretend it didn't mean anything to us."

Alex stared at Nicky, surprised by her diatribe. Her wild-haired friend was the first person she'd ever met who could relate to her uncommon sexual inclinations. They were both "in the life," as was the phrase for women who preferred the romantic company of other women. As she'd grown older, Alex had realized that people like them weren't as uncommon as she'd thought; they were just really good at hiding themselves. But in the time she'd known Nichols, she'd never seen her court the same girl for more than two weeks on end. Alex had always assumed those flings were cut short by choice, but now she wasn't so sure.

"What if Piper's different?" She asked, quietly.

"She's not." Nicky said, firmly. "Take my advice, kid: don't let yourself fall for her. She will break your heart. And the worst part is, she won't even know she's done it."

Alex took another long swig from the bottle, considering this. Nichols was right, she decided. Wasn't Piper exactly like those girls she'd just described? Rich, spoiled, out for a little adventure before she settled down into her prim and proper life. Alex was just some fun little game on the side that she could play for a while and then abandon, victorious. Well, fuck that. Fuck _her._

"I told her I didn't want to see her again," she said heavily.

Nicky nodded. "It's for the best. Trust me."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Alex's head was beginning to ache, but she kept drinking, telling herself it would help somehow. "What did you come here to tell me, Nicky?" She said at last.

"I got a message from Red."

"And?"

"She wants us to find out where Vee's spot is."

Alex closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of her chair. "Yeah, old news. Tricia already tried following her, remember?"

"Well, we're gonna have to try something else. Red's counting on us. We can't let her down."

Alex was finding it difficult to think, thanks to the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. She hauled herself upright and set the bottle of booze down clumsily on the table. "We have to ask Big Boo," she said thickly.

Nicky's reaction was immediate and predictable. "No. Fuck, no! I don't trust that pimp as far as I can throw her, and she's one burly bulldagger."

"She's got ears everywhere. She's paid off half the inspectors in the city, and the other half are her fucking clients. She knows everything that goes on in this district. Hell, I bet half a dozen of her girls are already hanging around Vee's club, looking to turn tricks."

"Red wouldn't like it," Nicky complained.

"No, but she'd still do it. Come on, Nicky, what other choice do we have?"

Nicky swore under breath, snatched up the bottle Alex had just abandoned, and took a healthy swig. "I swear Poussey's shit tastes worse every time I try it," she said, grimacing in disgust.

"Talk to Boo," Alex urged.

"Stay away from Piper," Nicky shot back.

"Touché."

* * *

><p>"The food here is amazing!" Piper raved, sliding the last bite into her mouth with a satisfied moan.<p>

"I'm glad to see you've got your appetite back," Larry said approvingly. He'd taken her out for dinner two nights ago, just hours after she'd returned to her grandmother's apartment to find inspector Mendez waiting in the parlor. Given the series of events that day, she hadn't been feeling like her usual indulgent self during her date with Larry. But it had been forty-eight hours since then, and Piper had done her best to put the situation out of her mind; she couldn't punish herself about it forever, and besides, she wasn't one to deprive herself of a good meal when it was already on the table.

"You never told me where you were the other night," her fiancé prompted when she was finished.

"Oh, just out," she said vaguely.

"With a friend?"

_No,_ she thought. _Not with a friend._ She was still angry about the way Alex had shunted her out of the apartment as if she couldn't wait to get rid of her, when a minute before the brunette had been all over her. Kissing her, touching her... it was completely inappropriate! The passage of time and the gift of retrospect made Piper realize how stupid the whole situation had been from the beginning. She had clearly been out of her mind with fear; otherwise she never would have acquiesced to Alex's advances. Not only was the woman a criminal, but she was also apparently some kind of queer. For a moment - _only a moment,_ Piper told herself with conviction - she had let Alex persuade her that there was something genuine between them. But the woman was not to be trusted. She knew better, now.

Realizing that Larry was staring at her, waiting for an answer, Piper fixed a strained smile onto her face. "A friend," she echoed.

"Was it that girl from the other day? What was her name? Alex?"

Piper nodded, still maintaining that fake smile.

"Unusual sort of woman," Larry mused. "Very... tall."

"She's really busy," Piper said dismissively, ignoring his comment. "I'm not sure I'll be seeing her again for a while."

"I'm sure she could make time." Larry reached across the table, taking Piper's hand in his. "I want you to have friends, Piper. I want you to be be happy here. I want it to feel like home for you."

Piper smiled, but even as she did so she felt a quiet sadness taking hold inside her.

As they walked back to the apartment together, arm in arm, her thoughts wandered. She knew Larry was a good man; he wanted them to build a good life together. But somehow, _good_ no longer felt like enough. She wanted more than stability and friendship from him. She wanted _passion_. Larry Bloom had many fine and admirable qualities, but passion could hardly be counted among them. When he kissed her cheek in farewell it was chaste and quick, a gesture that conveyed affection but no real desire.

Larry was safe. But he was boring.

Piper said her goodbye and immediately headed up the stairs to her bedroom, kicking off her shoes and throwing herself onto the bed. She tugged on her pillow to adjust it for comfort, only to discover the cardigan she'd borrowed from Alex folded up beneath it. For the last two days she'd been pondering what to do with it. Somehow, it kept moving around her room. First she'd placed it on top of the dresser; then, deciding it was too out in the open, she'd stuffed into one of the drawers. That was no good either, she'd decided earlier that afternoon, and stowed it underneath the pillow. She pulled it out now, running her fingers over the thick, crocheted fabric. Closing her eyes, she lowered her nose toward it and inhaled. It still smelled like the woman it belonged to, and Piper found it comforting, somehow.

"Fuck," she whispered. Everything was changing too fast. Even her vocabulary was different than it had been before New York; she liked the ways words like 'fuck' felt rolling off her tongue, provocative and unladylike. Her parents disapproved of cuss words, which was another point in their favor.

She rolled over and lay on her back, clutching the sweater against her chest. She missed Alex; or she hated her. Either way, there was an ache in Piper that no amount of sleep seemed likely to cure.

* * *

><p>"I don't understand," Poussey said slowly, her eyes darting back and forth between Tasha and Cindy. They were sitting on a bench in Central Park, where they'd asked Poussey to meet them at sundown that evening. Poussey, dressed in her usual pinstripe suit, had gotten angrily to her feet.<p>

"Look, it's nothing personal," Cindy said, uncomfortably.

"What do you mean, it's not personal? You just told me you're kicking me out the group!"

"P, it ain't like that," Tasha replied softly. "Vee offered us a fair contract. She's paying us better than Red ever did."

"I know what she's paying you! She offered me the same deal, remember?" Poussey began to pace back and forth in agitation, struggling to keep herself from shouting. "Red's done good for us, hasn't she? She puts us on stage in front of a full house, every night!"

"She did," Cindy agreed, "but she don't have a club no more. Vee does."

"Red's been taking advantage of us," Tasha added. "She ought to be paying us a percentage, not a fixed sum. We've made her way more money than the cut she gives us."

"Oh come on, Vee's feeding you that same shit she tried to make me swallow! Don't you see what she's doing here? Last week she offers me a deal if I'm willing to ditch the two of you; now she turns around and makes you the same offer! She's trying to _split us up!"_

An uncomfortable silence followed this pronouncement. Tasha and Cindy looked at each other, and Poussey glared furiously at both of them. Why was it so hard for them to see what was happening here? Vee was smart; she knew that Red's crew were as close as family, and if she really wanted to take them down, the best way to do it was to turn them all against each other. And so far, her strategy was working.

"P, it don't matter why she's doing it. What she says is the truth. We've been making money for Red and we don't hardly see a dime of it. I know you like her, but she's just as racist as every other club owner in this city looking to turn a profit off of us. Vee's different. She's going to teach us how to succeed."

Poussey shook her head. Even though part of her knew that Tasha was right, everything about this situation felt wrong. Vee was bad news. "We'll talk to Red," she urged. "We'll negotiate a new deal. We have to give her another chance!"

"Even if we wanted to," Cindy cut in, "the cops shut her down. It's over."

Poussey felt tears in her eyes and scrubbed at them angrily with her palms. "It's supposed to be about the music," she said in a pained voice. "Not the money. The music."

"I'm sorry, P." Tasha shook her head, eyes downcast. "We've made our decision. As of tomorrow night, Cindy and I are performing at Vee's place."

She and Cindy got up from the bench and began to walk away. The dapperly dressed crooner watched them go with her lips parted in shock, feeling as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water down on her head. She was now a solo singer with no stage. Worse than that, she'd just lost her best friends.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I don't think I've ever gotten this far into a fic without quitting! Which is not to say that I'm going to quit on you, just, you know... yay for me ;) I feel like I should apologize for this chapter, because things are not going well for any of these characters right now. But I promise it'll get better. It's all part of the journey! As always, any and all feedback is appreciated. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Couple of things:**

- You guys are amazing. Seriously, thank you so much, your response to this story has been so encouraging. I cherish every review and message I receive from you all. I try to reply to people when I can, but for all the guests who I can't message back- thank you!

- For people asking about Lorna: she'll be here! Probably within the next couple of chapters. I'm trying my best to include as many characters as I can, but the more of them I introduce the harder it is to give them all "screentime" while still keeping the plot moving. But my favorite part of this fic is imagining what these characters would be up to in a different time period, so I do want to include as many as I can.

- I'm sorry it took so long for me to update this. I wrote nearly the entire chapter, and then I reread it and realized it was awful. Like, truly terrible. I had to take a few days off and then come back and try again from a fresh perspective. I think this version is better, although it's nothing like what I wrote originally. Regardless, I hope you like it!

* * *

><p>Piper sighed with relief as the familiar silhouette of Alex's building came into view. For once, she managed to get to her destination without taking any inadvertent detours. Maybe she was getting the hang of living in the city after all. When Piper left the house, she hadn't even meant to come here; she told her grandmother she was just going out for a walk. But Alex was never far from her mind these days, and Piper's feet seemed to carry her here without any intentional thought on her part.<p>

She'd spent most of the week being in turns resentful and sad about the way Alex had ended things between them. Why did _she_ get to decide whether or not they saw each other again? It didn't seem fair. And if Piper were truly honest with herself, she missed Alex. Badly. She missed the way it felt to be around her, that breathless sense of something imminent and unpredictable. She missed the way Alex grinned when she said something amusing, like they were sharing a joke that no one else could understand. And more than anything else, she missed the way Alex looked at her, with unnervingly complete and focused attention, as if she were the only other person in the world. Piper thought about that look a lot. When she went to bed at night she found herself remembering the way Alex's fingers had felt sliding against her bare skin, and the desperate hunger with which they'd reached for each other...

The fact was, Piper wasn't... _that way. _Alex obviously wanted something from her that wasn't hers to give. She loved Larry, she was attracted to Larry, and she wanted to be his wife. But there was a voice speaking from somewhere inside her, somewhere near her heart, that whispered otherwise; that kept nudging her toward the slow burn of Alex's fixed gaze and the enticing prospect of kissing her again.

"Friends," Piper whispered to herself as she let herself into the building. "I'll just tell her I want to be _friends_."

Gathering her courage, she rapped hard on Alex's front door. She was greeted only by silence.

"Alex?" She knocked again, and then pressed her ear to the door, listening for movement on the other side.

Nothing.

Alex wasn't home.

Piper let out a heavy sigh and turned to leave. Exiting the building, she glanced skyward into the gathering twilight. Clouds were moving in, as if the setting sun had been the only thing keeping them at bay. It looked like rain. She thought about her first night in the city; she'd been caught in a rainstorm, until Alex came walking toward her out of the dark like the brooding love-interest in a Victorian novel. Except instead of a humorless, prickly young heir with a cold temper and little patience for romance, Alex was fiery and lively and well aware of her own allure. Oh, and she was a woman. _Maybe if I stand here until the rain comes, she'll appear with an umbrella to walk me home again,_ Piper thought wistfully.

She was still hesitatingly on the steps of the building when a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Well well, look what the cat dragged in!" Nicky, the bartender from the speakeasy, was staring at her with a highly amused grin on her face. "Or out, I supposed. Had a nice visit with Vause?"

Piper smiled and shook her head. "She's not home."

"Really?" Nicky considered this. "You sure? No offense, blondie, but maybe she just doesn't feel like talking to you."

Seemingly convinced that this was indeed the case, Nicky pushed past Piper and into the building before the blonde could reply. She sat down heavily on the bottom step, leaning her elbows against her knees. Maybe Nicky was right - maybe Alex was avoiding her. But barely a minute had passed before Nicky came bursting back through the door shaking her head.

"You were right," she said, taking a seat next to Piper and rummaging around in the pockets of her long trench coat. "Not home. Which is just fucking great, because she was supposed to help me with something tonight." She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Piper. The blonde considered refusing, but then thought better of it; she didn't think Nicky liked her very much, and maybe this was meant as some sort of peace offering.

"Thanks," Piper said as Nicky lit the smoke for her.

"So what's going on with you two anyway?"

"Who, me and Alex? Nothing!" Piper said quickly. Then, trying to mask her awkward reaction, she added, "I just came by to, uh... return some clothes. That I borrowed. Last week."

Nicky took a leisurely drag, eyeing Piper as she exhaled. "Where are they?"

"Where are what?"

"The _clothes_, genius."

"Oh. I guess I forgot them."

Nicky snickered. "Really convincing cover story. Had me completely fooled."

Piper blushed, inhaled too quickly, and was beset by a fit of coughing. When she recovered, she looked up to find Nicky still smirking at her.

"Why don't you ask Alex, if you're so curious?" Piper muttered, staring at the cigarette in her hand in order to avoid Nicky's smug gaze.

"Already have," Nicky replied, sounding annoyingly pleased with herself. "But I want to hear it from you."

Piper sighed, unsure of what to say. She was hesitant to confide anything in Nicky, knowing that whatever she said would probably get repeated to Alex the next time those two saw each other. But it would be foolish to deny what was happening between them, since Nicky was clearly already in the know.

"I'm not really sure what's going on with us," she admitted. "I'm serious!" she added, in response to the skeptical noise Nicky was making. "Really, I don't know. She got mad at me the other night and told me she didn't want us to be friends. I thought I'd come over here and try to make things right, but I'm not really sure _how_. I don't really understand why she's mad at me in the first place."

"Oh, please," Nicky replied, tossing back her red-gold mane. "Quit acting so innocent. You've been leading her on for weeks, so she kissed you, and then you embarrassed her by turning her down."

"What?! She told you I've been '_leading her on'_?"_  
><em>

_"_No, but I have eyes, and I can see what's going on here. It's clear as my mother's fucking vanity mirror. You're a massive flirt, Piper."

"I am not!" Piper stood up, incensed. "I didn't- It wasn't- she started it! _She_ pursued _me_! I'm not even like that. I don't like... women... in that way," she finished, awkwardly, her voice trailing away.

Nicky eyed her steadily. "That was about as convincing as your _'_I'm just here to return invisible clothes' story," she said, with a condescending grin.

"Fuck you," Piper hissed, through gritted teeth.

"Fuck Alex, you mean?" Nicky replied sweetly.

Piper's cheeks burned. She threw her half-smoked cigarette onto the ground and stomped on it furiously. She was angry because Nicky was intrusive and relentless, and she was angry because Nicky was _right_.

"Listen," Nicky said, getting to her feet. "I've got a meeting to get to, and since Alex decided to make herself scarce, I need a new partner in crime. Why don't you come with me?"

"I don't think I want to be an accessory in any more crimes."

Nicky rolled her eyes. "It's a figure of speech. You won't be doing anything illegal, it's just a meeting with an old associate of Red's."

Piper looked skeptical. Nicky had also told her that being at a speakeasy was perfectly safe, and then the police had turned up to shut them down, and that mustachioed inspector and his partner had given her the good-cop bad-cop routine in her grandmother's guest parlor. In light of all that, Piper wasn't sure Nicky was the best judge of safety.

"Come on, blondie. Where's your sense of adventure? Besides, if you don't go, you'll be wasting an excellent opportunity to interrogate me about Tall, Dark, and Distant."

That was a pretty apt description of Alex, Piper thought._ And a very convincing argument._ "Okay," she agreed, grudgingly. "But nothing illegal, right?"

"Cross my heart, and hope not to die," Nicky replied with a mischievous grin.

They set off down the street at a leisurely pace. Despite her misgivings about involving herself once again with whatever black market business Nicky was into, Piper was grateful to have company other than her grandmother and Larry. Nicky was abrasive, yes, but she was also pretty amusing, and surprisingly easy to talk to. She was beginning to understand why Nicky and Alex were such good friends.

"Can I ask you something?" Piper said, tentatively, as they paused at a crosswalk.

"Shoot."

"Are you, uh, you know… like Alex?"

"That's pretty vague."

"I mean, do you also… prefer women?"

"What do you think?" Nicky countered, eyebrows raised. Piper's mouth hung open awkwardly; she didn't want to give offense. Nicky eyed her for a moment, and then chuckled. "Women are complicated, and I'm a gal who likes a challenge. That, and a nice pair of tits. Does that answer your question?"

"… Yes." Piper tried her hardest not to blush. She was still getting accustomed to Nicky's vulgar manner of speaking. "So, all of the girls in Red's crew…?"

"Why, you got your eye on someone? Alex will be crushed."

"No! I was just wondering. I guess I just haven't met this many women before who are, you know… that way." She said, awkwardly.

"Sure you have, you just didn't know it. It's not something you talk about at your dinner parties and debutant balls and wherever else your people do for fun," Nicky said scathingly.

"_My_ 'people'? Aren't you some kind of heiress?"

The wild-haired woman shrugged. "Trust me, I don't want any part of that," she said, indifferently. "I only see my mother once a year, if I'm lucky. I wouldn't be surprised if she's written me out of her will by now. Wouldn't bother me at all." There was something in her tone that wasn't entirely convincing, Piper thought, but didn't press the issue. "Anyway, we're here."

They were walking down a dimly lit street. As they approached the building that was, apparently, their destination, two women stepped out of the shadows and sauntered toward them. From a distance, they looked alluring, almost regal, dressed in bright fabrics that were clearly cut to show off their curves. But as they came closer, the Piper realized that the clothes were outdated and gaudy. Despite the layers of makeup on their faces, Piper could tell that these women were older than they looked.

"Feel like having some fun tonight?" One of them said with a practiced smile, slinking toward Nicky and draping one hand suggestively against her chest just below the shoulder.

"What do you say, Piper?" Nicky turned to look at her, smirking. Piper was beginning to regret her decision to come along on this errand.

"Um, no. Thank you," she added, uncertainly. Having never been solicited by a prostitute before, she was unsure of the proper protocol for turning one down.

Nicky chuckled, looking extremely amused by Piper's distress. "Sorry ladies, not tonight. We're here to see your pimp."

The two women looked disappointed, even slightly annoyed. "Fine," the second one spat, whirled around to lead them into the building. The foyer was darkly lit by two sconces, so that most of the hall ways cast in shadow. Somewhere above them, a woman moaned loudly, and a man laughed.

"You said nothing illegal!" Piper hissed, looking mortified.

"Relax! It's a brothel, not a murder scene. Besides, half of Boo's clients are the police. She gives them a few frewbies now and then, and they leave her alone."

"Boo?" Piper repeated, half in confusion and half in disgust.

"The one and only," a voice said behind her. Jumping slightly in surprise, Piper turned around and found herself face-to-face with the butchest woman she'd ever seen. Her hair was cut into a short, sharp, gentleman's style, but the rest of her appearance was far from gentlemanly. She was eyeing Piper with a hungry gaze "Who's your lady friend, Nichols?"

The urge to run back out the door was nearly overwhelming, but the discomfort of her presence circumstance seemed to have stolen Piper's ability to move. In fact, she seemed unable to do anything other than stand there stupidly with her lips parted in shock.

"Not your fucking concern," Nicky growled. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"Here's fine," Big Boo said coldly, eyes narrowed in dislike. "I know what you want, anyway."

"Oh yeah?"

"Nothing goes on in this town that Boo don't know about," the pimp said, puffing out her chest importantly. "I'll tell you where Parker's operating out of, but I want something in return."

"Of course you do. Name it."

"Ten minutes alone with your friend," she deadpanned.

Piper felt the blood drain from her face. No way. No fucking way. Was this why Nicky brought her along? To pimp her out... to a pimp?! She gaped at the other two women in terror, her heart hammering wildly.

"Fuck you," Nicky said mildly. "Just give me the address and I'll owe you a favor."

"You sure you want to make that deal? When I call in favors, they aren't for small things."

"Of course I don't _want_ to. Just give me the fucking address, Boo."

They waited while the pimp fetched a pen and paper, scribbling down the address, and handed it to Nicky with a satisfied smirk. As the two women were leaving, Boo winked at Piper and made a crude gesture with her fingers, laughing at the blonde's horrified expression.

Piper was silent for several minutes as she and Nicky walked down the street, too incensed to speak.

"My God, you should have seen your face!" Nicky cackled. Piper shoved her on the shoulder with all the force she could muster, but Nicky just kept walking, laughing fit to burst.

"What the _fuck_, Nicky? Did you know that was going to happen?"

"I had high hopes," she snickered. "If you need to make a little money on the side, I'm sure that pimp would be happy to help you out!"

"Jesus. How do you even _know_ her?"

This question seemed to sober Nicky up. She stopped laughing, and began searching once again for her packet of smokes. "Tricia and Mercy used to work the streets for her," she said at last.

"But they're so young!"

Nicky shrugged. "In this town, you do whatever it takes to survive."

Piper was quiet for a moment. "How did they get out?" She said, finally.

"Red paid off their debt to Boo, found them a place to live. If you haven't figured it out by now, Piper, we're a bunch of misfit petty criminals. But at least we have each other, you know? We make our own family."

They walked the rest of the way home in silence, passing the last cigarette back and forth.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: It's been too many chapters without a Piper/Alex scene. Let the Vauseman ship sail. ;)**

* * *

><p>"Let me get this straight," Alex said, reclining on Nicky's sofa with her eyes closed. "Last night, you went to Boo's brothel. With <em>Piper? <em>What were you thinking?" The incongruous image of Piper standing in the foyer of a bawdy house, with her pristine hair and neatly pressed clothes, was almost too much. She doubted Piper had ever even met a prostitute before, let alone walked into a building where they were hard at work.

"You're acting a little overprotective, don't you think?"

"No, I don't! A brothel, Nicky? Really?"

"Aw, come on, she wanted to go! What's the big deal?" Nicky leaned forward, staring hard at Alex.

_What's the big deal?_ Only that the last time she'd gotten Piper involved in the family business, it had ended in a fucking police bust and then a goddamn _chase_. As she'd steered Piper through the dark streets, clutching the blonde's warm, damp palm against her own, it was the first time she could remember feeling truly afraid in a long while. It wasn't for her own sake but for Piper's, and that simple fact scared her more than anything else. Alex wasn't the type of women to let other people dictate her emotions; she'd been hurt enough times to learn that other people were fickle and selfish, so Alex had molded herself to match. She kept herself carefully aloof, and therefore immune to the kind of emotional blackmail that worked on others. But when she'd woken up with Piper that morning, on the floor of the safe house apartment, she'd found her resolve curiously weakened. She had _cared_. She'd wanted Piper to trust her, with no ulterior motive in mind beyond the simple fact that she wanted to spend more time with the blonde. That was new, and frightening, and it put her on edge.

"Why were you even with her?" She asked Nicky, sounding more annoyed than she intended to. "Are you two friends now, or something?"

"Relax, Vause. I didn't make a move on her, if that's what you're worried about." Nicky clearly intended this as a joke, but Alex wasn't in the mood.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to make coffee," she said, getting to her feet and heading for the kitchen. This was Nicky's apartment, but Alex spent so much time there that she had no qualms about rummaging through the pantry. After locating the coffee can, she dumped the grounds in a pot of water and set it on the stove to boil.

"What's going on with you?" Nicky asked, leaning against the doorway with her arms folding across her chest.

"Nothing!" Alex snapped, lifting the pot up and swirling its contents around over the heat of the stove. A chair scraped across the floor, which she took to mean that Nicky had sat down at the kitchen table.

"Are you mad because I took her with me to talk to Boo, or because I was with her in the first place?"

"Neither! Jesus, what's with the inquisition?" She set the pot down and turned around to face Nicky. "It's none of my business who you choose to spend time with. I just didn't expect it to be Piper, considering that a week ago you were telling _me_ to stay away from her!"

"Yes, but you want to fuck her, whereas I just wanted the company. Therein lies the difference."

"Well that's a first, isn't it? I don't think you've ever met a girl you didn't want to fuck," Alex snarled, turning her back on Nicky again.

Her friend didn't respond. Silence reigned over the kitchen. The coffee was boiling, and Alex turned off the stove, feeling ashamed of herself. That was a low blow, entirely uncalled for, and she knew it. But the idea of her best friend spending time with a woman who'd rejected her... it fucking _hurt._

"I'm sorry," she said with a remorseful sigh. "I shouldn't have said that."

Nicky was quiet for a moment as Alex filtered the coffee and decanted it into two mismatched tea cups. "You miss her," she said, finally.

"Yeah," Alex admitted, feeling defeated. "I guess I do."

She didn't want to. She wanted to put Piper out of her mind, or at least shove any thought of her away into the deepest, darkest corner possible. And yet, she couldn't let go of the feeling that there was unfinished business between them. Alex prided herself on maintaining control of all things in her life; she kept her own apartment and her own hours. When she negotiated a business deal, it was on her terms. When she set her eyes on a woman, she threw glances and smiled and crooked her finger until the object of her lust came to her, eager and willing. Piper was different, and it was driving Alex crazy in more ways than one.

"She came to see you last night, you know," Nicky said, dragging the brunette out of her musing state. "We met up outside your apartment."

Alex's stomach dropped, as if the floor had just fallen away beneath her. Trying to respond nonchalantly to this unexpected news, she carried the teacups over and set them down slowly on the table before taking a seat across from her friend. "Did she say why?"

"Sure, she fed me some bullshit story about returning a sweater. She wanted an excuse to see you, obviously."

"Hm." Alex gave a noncommittal shrug, but she lifted the coffee quickly to her lips to hide her pleased smile. If Piper missed her too, that meant the ball was back in Alex's court and all was not lost, after all. _I can still get this back under control._ The thought was immensely cheerful.

"You look like the cat that ate the canary," Nicky observed, smirking slightly. "Look, I don't want to get your hopes up, but after spending some time with Piper last night... she's alright. Spoiled, annoying, and naive, sure, but you've been with worse."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alex demanded, but she was grinning now, her anger completely dissipated.

"You were with Sylvie last night, were you not?"

Alex pursed her lips, pretending to be insulted. It was true, she _had_ been with Sylvie last night. It was an old flame, but it still burned hot enough on nights when Alex needed someone to keep her warm. She'd been desperate for a distraction, and Sylvie had been happy to oblige. Alex hadn't meant to be with her all night, though. That was the problem with Sylvie; she never wanted to let go when the sun came up, and Alex never wanted to stay.

"I'm not saying this is going to end well," Nicky continued, a little more seriously. "She's still a rich, well-manicured grannie's girl who will probably break your heart-" she warned "-but if you decide to go after her, I'll understand why."

"It's just an attraction," Alex replied quickly. "It doesn't have to mean anything." Even to her own ears, her tone didn't sound entirely convincing.

"Sure," Nicky agreed, with a skeptical smile.

Alex sipped her coffee, grimacing slightly. The grounds were old, and the brew was bitter. "Tell me what you found out from Boo."

* * *

><p>In the semi-darkness of her bedroom, Piper awoke with a start. She could have sworn she heard a noise like someone gently tapping on the windowpane. Which was ridiculous, because her room was on the second story, and there was no way someone could reach it from the street.<p>

_Tap._

Half-asleep and frightened, she drew the covers up around her and eyed the window. The glow of light from the street illuminated the empty air beyond the window; there was nobody there.

_Tap. Tap._

Piper thought she saw a tiny blur of movement as something struck the glass. She slid out from beneath the bedcovers and walked shakily to the window, peering down at the street below. In the halo of light cast by the streetlamp, a figure was staring up at her.

"Alex," she breathed. She fumbled with the latch, her fingers protesting this sudden wakeful effort, and then succeeded in throwing open the window.

"Hey Rapunzel," Alex called, "let down your hair!"

Piper laughed, giddy with relief. The sight of the brunette standing below, and the sound of her voice, made Piper feel warm all over. She turned away from the window and searched around the room for her robe. She pulled it hastily on over her nightgown and then opened her bedroom door, tip-toeing down the hallway past her grandmother's bedroom. A moment later she was outside on the street below, staring at Alex, the two of them grinning at each other like a pair of rebellious adolescents sneaking out after dark.

Piper spoke first. "Now you're the prince?" she quipped. "I thought you were the wolf."

"I've found that most princes turn out to be wolves in disguise," Alex said, chuckling. "You must be a really heavy sleeper," she added teasingly. "I've been trying to get your attention for the last quarter of an hour! I ran out of rocks to throw, I've been reusing the same ones."

"I can't believe you were throwing _rocks_ at my window!"

"What? It worked, didn't it?"

"Yes, it did. I'm really happy to see you," Piper said, breathlessly, and then blushed. She didn't want Alex to know how much she'd missed her. It was embarrassing, somehow, especially given the way they'd left things.

"Have lunch with me," Alex said immediately, capitalizing on Piper's bashful silence. In her signature husky tone, the words were more like a command than a question. She lifted one eyebrow expectantly, waiting for the blonde's reaction.

"What? Alex, it's- what time is it?"

"Half past two," the brunette supplied, smiling slyly.

"Okay, it's half past two in the morning. I haven't seen you for a week, which is exactly how long its been since you told me you never wanted to see me again. You can't just-"

"Piper." Alex took a step toward her, and Piper's body tensed, as if preparing itself for impact. "Just have lunch with me."

Their eyes met, gazes fixed upon one another as if held in thrall by an electric current; the same current that moved through Piper's body, raising tiny bumps across her skin, making her hair stand on end. She shivered, folding her arms across her chest as if to defend against the sensations that assaulted her.

"That's what you came here to say?"

"I know you were at my apartment last night." Alex took another step toward her. "I know that you've been thinking about me, and that you couldn't stay away." The way these words were spoken made them sound like a dark secret the brunette had uncovered. "I've been thinking about you too, Piper," she continued. This time, Piper almost stopped breathing.

"Oh," she whispered, completely at a loss for a reply. Alex's eyes were still fixed on hers, and it made Piper feel nervous, and utterly enthralled. There was both too much space between them, and too little.

"So, lunch?" The brunette repeated, smirking. She was clearly enjoying the affect she had on the woman in front of her.

Piper swallowed. "When?"

"Tomorrow. Well, today. At eleven. I'll be back to pick you up."

Piper hesitated, knowing this was a bad idea. Yesterday she'd been convinced that the two of them could be friends; but now, standing close together beneath the glow of the streetlamp, that notion seemed completely naive. She wasn't sure she could be around Alex and not want to be seduced by her. The realization of that was at once both terrifying and achingly enticing.

"Just say yes," Alex prompted.

Piper swallowed hard.

"Yes."

* * *

><p><strong>P.S. You are the best. Every single one of you. <strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I had the interesting experience of needing to reread 12 chapters of my own fic to get back "into character," because it's been weeks since I updated (which I am now really sorry about!) For some reason this chapter was really difficult for me to write. Anyway, if you're still reading, thanks for sticking with this! I'm hoping to get back into my 1-2 chapters-a-week routine.

Special shout-out to the guests (maybe just one?) who keep telling me that my fic is underrated. You're bad for my ego, but you're also great for my confidence.

Oh, aaaaand... I'm upping the rating to M, for mature content. You know what that means. ;)

* * *

><p>Piper stared critically at her reflection in the vanity mirror. <em>Perhaps the earrings are a bit much.<em> She'd started with pearls but had taken them off almost immediately, realizing how ridiculous it was to bejewel herself for a simple lunch date. Not even a date. Just lunch. _Lunch with Alex_, she thought, wistfully, feeling like a young adolescent with a shy schoolgirl crush.

She was removing the earrings when she heard the door open downstairs, and her grandmother's voice say _"you must be Piper's friend."_

Panic overtook her immediately. Alex had said eleven! It was only - she checked the clock - ten fifty-seven! People who showed up early for appointments were among her least favorite, along with door-to-door proselytizers and people who talked at the theatre. She'd pegged Alex for a fashionably late kind of gal, and had counted on at least ten more minutes to prepare herself. That was wishful thinking, apparently, and now Alex was in her grandmother's apartment, talking with Celeste about who-knows-what. About Piper, probably. _Shit_.

_Get a hold of yourself._ She looked at the mirror again. Yes, she decided, simple was better. No gaudy jewelry, no overdone makeup. Just the dress, and... she picked up Alex's cardigan, draping it over her shoulders._ Perfect. _

She made her way carefully down the stairs, fearing that she'd suffer a sudden bout of clumsiness and somehow manage to trip on her way down. Thankfully, she made it to the bottom without any incidents.

"I just love this piece," Alex was saying, staring admiringly at one of Celeste's framed paintings. "The lines, the brushstrokes are so sharp, but the expressions on their faces are so soft."

"Yes," Piper's grandmother said approvingly. "The contrast is what makes the piece so poignant."

"Ahem," interrupted Piper, and the other two women both turned to look at her.

"Oh, Piper! I was just getting to know your delightful friend, Alexandra. She certainly knows her art history!"

"And I was admiring your grandmother's collection," Alex said, smiling pleasantly at Celeste. "She had incredible taste."

The brunette turned her bland smile upon Piper and winked; Piper faked a yawn and covered her mouth, to keep herself from laughing visibly. This was clearly all for show; Alex was talking up her grandmother's interests in order to make a good impression. It was... adorable, actually, the kind of thing Larry should have done if he'd had more tact. It was also a very obvious courting ritual, and that realization made Piper feel both embarrassed and absurdly pleased. She noticed Alex's eyes lingering on the cardigan she had draped over her shoulders; the ghost of a smirk flitted across the brunette's features, and Piper knew she'd made the right choice in wearing it.

"Well, I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation," Piper said, still working hard to hold back her mirth, "but we do have plans for lunch, grandmother."

"Of course, dear. You girls have a good time!"

They said their goodbyes as Piper led Alex back through the foyer and out of the building. They walked for a block without speaking, Piper wearing a bashful smile and Alex her signature sly grin. When they were out of sight of Celeste's apartment, Piper finally cracked.

"I didn't know you were going to come _in_," she said, in a slightly awed tone.

"I thought it would be good for her to meet me," Alex replied, shrugging. "Maybe help get you back in her good graces. I mean, I _did_ keep you out all night last week. I thought maybe if I flattered her a little, convinced her I was trustworthy, she'd be less mad about it."

"Oh, yeah. Good thinking," Piper said, nodding.

"Aaaand," Alex added, drawing out the syllable, "I wanted to see where you live."

"Why?" the blonde asked in reply, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"So I could sneak into your bed after I put grannie in the oven."

"Alex!" Piper exclaimed, gaping at her. "You say the most ridiculous things sometimes."

"The better to tease you with, my dear," she purred. Piper swatted at the brunette's shoulder, causing Alex to step away and fold her palm against her chest in mock surprise. "Rude," she commented, smirking playfully. Piper rolled her eyes, slipped her hand into Alex's, and continued walking. Alex raised her eyebrows at this gesture, but didn't comment on it. Nor did she pulled her hand away. Instead she matched Piper's pace and said, "that cardigan looks good on you. Better than it does on me."

"As if you'd actually be caught wearing something this conservative," Piper scoffed in reply.

"Only if I was meeting your grandmother," Alex retorted, and laughed, her deep chuckle sounding like music to Piper's ears. It was ridiculous how much she'd missed Alex's company, and her sarcastic sense of humor. She was so relieved to have it back that she started laughing too, completely abandoning her plan to act smooth and casual and aloof. Piper had spent a week pretending to be those things, and all it brought was the ache of distance. Now that she had Alex's company all to herself again, she wasn't going to waste it by feigning indifference. She was enjoying herself, and she wanted the other woman to know it.

"Where are we going?" she asked, realizing she'd been walking in an arbitrary direction.

"This way." Alex tugged on her hand and taking the lead.

They took a roundabout route to their destination, walking down Fifth Avenue for several blocks. They stopped often to peer at window displays, Piper expressing admiration for the latest trends and then rolling her eyes as Alex mercilessly mocked them. It was obvious that the brunette didn't care much for popular fashion, or fads of any kind. This didn't really surprise Piper. Everything about Alex was contrary to convention, almost daringly so, and she liked that about her.

At one point, Alex instructed Piper to wait for her before ducking into a building. She returned a moment later carrying a picnic basket. "Stashed it in a friend's office," she said, by way of explanation.

"You're taking me on a picnic?" Piper raised her eyebrows skeptically.

"Yes," Alex confirmed. "What's wrong with picnics?"

"Nothing, it's just... this is so strange."

"It's just lunch, Piper," the brunette replied, frowning slightly.

"No, I didn't mean... I want to have lunch with you, I do. it's just strange seeing you in the daytime, I guess," she clarified. "Being around you while we're both sober and not doing something illegal."

"Look," Alex said seriously, taking a step forward and reaching for Piper's hand. "I'm not a shady person, Piper. I know I'm involved in some shady business - but that's just what I _do_. It's not who I am. I never meant for you to get involved in-"

"Hey, don't worry about it," Piper interrupted. "I've never been chased by a gang of territorial bootleggers before. First time for everything, right?" Alex laughed in response, but Piper thought her chuckle was masking a note of uncertainty.

"I was sure I'd scared you away," the brunette admitted, glancing away and running the tip of her tongue over her lips.

"You didn't scare me away, Alex. You told me to leave."

"Piper..." Alex sighed. "I'm new to this, okay? I don't know all the rules."

"I'm not even sure what 'this' is," Piper admitted. "I've never..." She trailed off, not sure how to articulate what she felt without saying aloud something she wasn't ready to admit. She wanted to say, _'I've never felt this way about another woman before,'_ but she couldn't bring herself to do it. It was too soon, and she was too afraid that saying it out loud would mark a turning point from which there was no going back.

Alex looked at her for a moment, green eyes sweeping searchingly over Piper's anxious features. Then she smiled softly, breaking the tension. "I packed us a picnic," she said, lifting the basket to remind the blonde across from her that they were supposed to be on their way to lunch. "And if we keep standing here, talking, the food will go bad."

They walked to Central Park. Piper had only been there once before, when she'd taken a short stroll with Larry. Revisiting it now, she was surprised to see how large it was; this swathe of nature planted right in the middle of one of the most bustling cities in the world. It was late spring now and everything was in bloom; the trees had finally unfurled their new leaves, while crocuses and daffodils poked colorfully out of flower beds. Piper allowed Alex to lead her along the central promenade, which culminated in a split-level terrace overlooking the park's lake. In the middle of the terrace sat a pool with a statue topped fountain. They sat down on the stone rim of the pool, Piper admiring the artistry of the fountain while Alex unpacked their lunch.

"This is beautiful," Piper said, wonderingly. The bronze statue at the center depicted a angel touching down on a pedestal; below her were four young cherubs.

"First publicly commissioned work of art in New York to be designed by a woman," Alex commented.

"I thought you were only into paintings."

The brunette shrugged. "I come here a lot. It's one of my favorite places in the city. See the cherubs underneath her?" She pointed them out to Piper. "They each represent something different. "Peace, health, temperance, and purity."

Piper raised her eyebrows. "All thing you're unfamiliar with," she said teasingly. This time it was Alex's turn to swat at the blonde, who nearly fell into the pond in her attempt to evade the other woman's outstretched arm and was only saved when Alex managed to grab at the last second.

"Hey! You almost pushed me in!" Piper huffed, though she was laughing as she did so.

"I didn't even touch you! You're just clumsy, Pipes."

"Maybe a little," she admitted, pleased to hear the way that nickname sounded. She liked seeing Alex like this - relaxed, carefree, playful. In the light of day she was less intensely alluring, but still charming... _and still beautiful._

They ate lunch slowly. Alex had packed simple things, bread and cheese and fruit. "The only thing missing is a good glass of wine," Piper said, wistfully, as the last of the fruit disappeared into her mouth.

"That can be arranged," Alex purred. "But you'll have to come back to my apartment for it."

"Seriously?" Piper asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Well I couldn't exactly put it in the picnic basket," Alex said, with a grin and a shrug. "Arrest for public possession of alchohol is not on my to-do list today. Come on, come with me. Just for an hour. You've got time, right?"

"Alex... I'm not sure that's a good idea," Piper said, hesitantly. The last time she'd been alone with Alex in her apartment, the brunette's affections had become a little too overt. A line had been crossed. Piper wasn't sure she was ready to put herself in that position again so soon.

"I'll behave," Alex said, softly. It was the closest Piper had ever heard the brunette come to begging, and the gently pleading tone in her voice was what made the decision for her.

"Okay," she agreed. "But I'm holding you to that."

They left the park, making their way back through the streets to Alex's apartment. Piper didn't take her hand this time, feeling like she needed to lay down boundaries on their intimacy, especially since she'd just agreed to walk into an obvious trap. When they reached Alex's place, Piper sat down on the living room sofa to wait while Alex went into the kitchen. She returned with two glasses and a bottle of something red and rich-looking, which she decanted and offered delicately to the blonde.

Piper took a tentative sip and then closed her eyes, letting out a soft moan of pleasure. Had her eyes not been closed, she might have seen the way Alex's body tensed at the sound, the way she, too, closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip in response; but Piper was oblivious to this, too focused on the taste of the wine. "This is amazing," she said, with awe. "This can't be the same stuff Nicky serves at the speakeasy."

"It isn't," Alex confirmed, sipping from her own glass. "That Canadian grog is for customers; French wine is for friends." She sat down on the sofa next to Piper, careful to leave a foot of space between them.

"Are we friends again, Alex?" Piper asked, glancing shyly over at the brunette.

"I don't know, Piper," she replied, slowly. "Do you want to be?"

"Yes. Don't you?"

Alex set her wine glass down on the table and shifted to face Piper more fully. "I want to kiss you," she said, without hesitation.

She lifted a hand and reached for the blonde's hair, twirling one of the gold locks between her fingers and staring unflinchingly into the other woman's eyes. Piper recognized this as a deliberate act of seduction and knew she should pull away, but something in her was so susceptible to Alex's allure that she found herself unable to move. Piper could feel her pulse leap into a frenzy, and knew that if this went any further she wouldn't be able to stop herself from giving in.

"You promised to behave," she said, desperately.

"This _is_ behaving," Alex countered with a grin. "I haven't _done_ anything, I just said that I-"

The rest of her words were swallowed by Piper's mouth, suddenly pressed against hers, stealing the breath from her lungs. Piper had no idea what she was doing; she only knew that she needed this more than she'd ever needed anything. She hadn't stopped thinking about the way Alex's lips felt against hers since their awkward parting last week, and suddenly her desire to recreate those few perfect kisses they'd shared was overwhelming. In that moment it didn't seem to matter that Alex was a woman; she was seductive and beautiful and perfect, all sharp words and soft edges. Piper wanted her in an aching, graceless way.

Alex had recovered from the surprise of Piper's first move and had her hand pressed into the back of the blonde's neck, drawing her closer, nipping at her bottom lip and grinning triumphantly when Piper moaned her approval. She moved away to leave a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down Piper's neck before returning to her mouth. She was surprised once again when Piper's tongue slid boldly between her parted lips, as if daring her to take reclaim control. She growled hoarsely and pushed Piper onto her back, determined to do just that, to claim Piper's mouth and swallow her whole.

Piper slid her hands up under the hem of Alex's shirt, feeling the bones of her hips, the soft skin of her belly, and wanting more.

"Piper, you're-" Alex paused as the blonde stole another kiss. "You're not behaving," she finished, smirking.

"Just kiss me," Piper demanded, sliding her hand up Alex's back, feeling each ridge of the woman's spine beneath her fingertips. Still, it wasn't enough. She placed her lips against the soft skin of Alex's throat, nipping at it brazenly, sliding her mouth toward the sharp lines of Alex's collarbone.

Alex closed her eyes, working hard to keep herself from moaning in response. When her eyelids fluttered open again her pupils were dilated, dark with desire. There were too many layers of clothing between them; she grabbed impatiently at her cardigan and pushed it back off Piper's shoulders.

The blonde lay on her back on the sofa, the straps of her dress pulled down to expose her bare shoulders, her hands grasping Alex's waist; Alex leaned over her, one thigh pressed between Piper's, fingers tangled in her now-messy golden locks.

That was how they were found, when the door suddenly opened.

"What the _fuck!" _Alex yelped, turning her body to shield Piper from view.

"Oh, Jesus," Nicky muttered, covering her eyes and backing up into the hallway.

"You can't just walk into my apartment, Nichols! Fucking _knock_ next time, you asshole!"

"You gave me a key! Fuck, I'm sorry. You two just... carry on. I'll come back later."

"Just... give us a minute, _fuck_." Nicky waved her free hand in a gesture of understanding, still holding her other palm over her eyes. She was obviously trying to look regretful, but completely failed to wipe the knowing smirk off her face. She backed into the hallway and pulled the door closed behind her.

"Shit, Piper, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" She turned back to look at the blonde, and was bewildered to find that Piper was shaking with silent laughter. "Piper?" she repeated, uncertainly. She had expected a hysterical reaction from the blonde, but not _this_ kind of hysterics.

"Oh my _god_," Piper gasped, still laughing, and wiping a tear from her eye. "I can't believe that just happened."

"Me neither. I'm going out there," she said darkly, getting to her feet, "and I'm going to murder her."

"Alex, don't. It's okay, really." Piper sat up, pulling the straps of her dress back into place and running her fingers through her hair, trying to tame it. "Go find out what she wants."

"Fine. But I can't promise there won't be violence involved," Alex muttered, stalking toward the door and throwing it open.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** ahahaha I don't even know._  
><em>

(see end of chapter)

* * *

><p>"This had better be good," Alex growled, folding her arms over her chest and glaring furiously at Nichols.<p>

"It looked pretty good from where I'm standing," Nicky quipped, smirking. "It's been, what-" she counted on her fingers "eighteen hours since we talked? And you've already got her skirt up around her waist?"

Alex wasn't in the mood to banter. "How about you spit out what you came here to say?"

"Fine." Nicky glanced down the hallway in both directions, as if making sure they wouldn't be overheard. "It's about Red," she said, quietly.

Alex sighed. "You'd better come in," she allowed, grudgingly, opening the door and following Nicky back into the apartment.

Piper was still sitting on the sofa, but she'd pulled the sweater back on and was now busy smoothing out her dress, trying to erase the tell-tale crinkles in the fabric. Her hair was still messy, though, from the way Alex had run her fingers through it. The blonde met Alex's gaze shyly, her cheeks still flushed pink, and the brunette's expression softened at the sight. She found herself smiling back; the girl was just too goddamn _adorable_.

"Hey, _lovebirds_," Nicky said, snickering. "Could I have your attention for a minute?"

"What?" Alex snapped, throwing herself down in the armchair, deliberately leaving Nichols with nowhere to sit.

"Red's calling an emergency meeting."

"I thought she was under surveillance?"

Nicky shook her head. "She's been laying low for a week. They got bored, stopped tailing her. She wants us all to meet at the safe house so we can talk."

"When?"

"Well... now."

"Now?" Alex repeated, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice. She knew Red wouldn't call a meeting on such short notice if it wasn't important, but, God, the timing was terrible. Today was supposed to be about showing Piper the romantic, safe, trustworthy side of her. And now, predictably, business had rudely intruded on Alex's plans once again. "Fine," she said, sighing. "You go on ahead. I have to take Piper home," she said, casting an apologetic look at the blonde.

"No time," Nicky said, turning to face the blonde. "Just come with us."

"Me?" Piper repeated, looking surprised.

"Why not? You were there when the club got busted. You went with me to meet with Boo. You're a part of this now, like it or not."

"Wait just a minute," Alex said, defensively, glaring at Nicky. There was no way in hell she was going to let Nichols dictate Piper's actions, here; especially not after the _brothel_ incident. "Piper, ignore her. You don't have to go. I don't want you involved in this, it's not safe for you, you're-"

"Alex," Piper interrupted softly, with a crooked smile. "It's okay. I know you want to protect me, but Nicky's right. I'm involved in this now. I want to know how it all turns out."

Alex sighed, a sinking feeling in her stomach. This was a bad idea. Piper was so naive, sometimes. She didn't understand how dangerous this business could be, how damaging; she came from a different world, from country mansions and birthday galas and neat, tidy, little lives passed under the safe dictates of the rules. This was all some grand adventure to her, but Alex knew better; this was _her_ world. This was the underbelly of New York City, teeming with lawless opportunists. This was midnight rendezvous with faceless strangers, razor blade concealed up your sleeve. This was the very edge of death, and that was the whole point. But Piper, with her delicate country sensibilities, could never understand that, and Alex knew she would never be able to explain it. The best she could do was try to keep Piper safe, as far as possible from Alex's business.

"Piper..." she started, but the blonde cut her off.

"Let's go," Piper said, firmly; and Alex gave in. Because even though it was dangerous, she decided it was better to keep Piper close then to push her away again.

When the reached the safe house, they were the last of the group to arrive. Tricia and Mercy were both there already, sitting together on the floor; Poussey paced back and forth in the corner, her expression stoney. There was also an unfamiliar face, a woman who appeared to be around the same age as Red. She did not introduce herself; Red didn't give her a chance.

"Who is the blonde one?" the Russian woman demanded, eyeing Piper as she took a seat on the floor beside Alex.

"That's Piper," Nicky said quickly, "You remember her, Red. She was there on the night of the bust? She went with me to get the address from Boo," she added.

Red nodded. "You trust her?" she asked, turning to look at Alex.

"I trust her." Alex slid her fingers surreptitiously across the floor, brushing them against Piper's thigh, trying to convey reassurance. Piper's hand sought hers out in response, and they tangled their fingers together. _We're a team_, Alex thought impulsively, wondering at her own attachment to the woman whose hand was now cupped warmly inside of hers.

Red studied Piper's eyes for a moment, and then nodded again. "If my girls trust you, then so do I. Let's get started. Girls, I want you to meet an old friend of mine." She gestured at the older of the two strangers. "This is Miss Rosa."

"Holy shit," Nicky said, and whistled; Alex immediately knew why. There wasn't a girl in this room - except maybe Piper - who hadn't heard of the infamous bank robber Rosa Cisneros, a woman who'd pulled off more heists that Jesse James and, unlike that unlucky bastard, had never gotten caught. For women who aspired to that level of criminal enterprise, Rosa was a legend. There were an infinite number of rumors about her, each of them increasingly absurd and yet all of them captivating in their legendary quality. There was no vault she couldn't crack, they said; she could walk through walls, or else bull her way through an eight-inch thick steel door; she had never loved a man, deciding she didn't need one; or, alternatively, every man she'd ever loved had died tragically.

Alex studied her face, intrigued. Beneath Miss Rosa's steely gaze there was a haunted look; she had the appearance of a woman who had stared into the face of death too many times. An air of weariness clung to her, along with the graceless shadow of age. Looking into her eyes was like staring at mirror thirty years in the future, and it made Alex feel deeply uncomfortable.

"If we want to win, we have to play smarter," Red continued, addressing the room at large. "We needed help, so I called the best in the business."

"How's she going to help?" Poussey demanded; her tone was rude, but everyone understood her frustration. Losing Tasha and Cindy had been harder on her than on the rest of them. "What are we going to do, pull a heist on Vee?"

"Actually," Miss Rosa replied in a gravely tone, speaking for the first time. "That's _exactly_ what we're going to do."

* * *

><p>The rest of the meeting was spent making plans; two nights from now they would go to Vee's club, where Rosa would case the joint, paying particular attention to the layout, the staff, and any other details that might be of interest to their plans. The rest of Red's crew would hang around the vicinity in case she needed backup. Once they had a better idea of what they were dealing with, they would finalize their plot for revenge.<p>

Having laid out the details to their satisfaction, the women left the safe house one by one until Alex and Piper were left alone in the chilly attic.

"I meant what I said, Piper," Alex said softly, when the others were gone. "You don't have to be involved in this."

"Don't you want me to?" Piper asked in reply, eyebrows raised. Her pupils were wide in the dim light; outside, the afternoon was fading fast, replaced by the half-dark of twilight. Alex didn't respond. She didn't know what to say. She liked this bold, unafraid version of Piper.

They were still sitting together on the floor - on the exact spot, Alex realized suddenly, where they had shared that first daring kiss just over a week ago.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" She asked with a grin, and was gratified to see Piper's cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink at the memory of waking up on the floor of this room together. It felt like a lifetime ago, now, with everything that had happened in between. Alex recalled how they had slept with their bodies curled into one another's, unknowingly; how the discovering of it upon waking had made her heart race and her fingers twitch with want. She reached for Piper now, free of the inhibitions that had stayed her hand that morning.

"Alex," Piper started to say, in protest; but Alex silenced her by cupping the blonde's hips in her hands and tugging her forward until she was sitting snugly in the brunette's lap.

"I believe we have some unfinished business," Alex said in a throaty whisper, placing a delicate kiss below Piper's earlobe.

"Al..."

"What was it we were doing?" She mused, with another kiss on the soft skin of the blonde's neck, lower this time.

"We... shouldn't..."

"Oh yeah." She suckled softly where neck met shoulder, feeling Piper's body stiffen in response. "Misbehaving," she concluded, pulling back to enjoy the look on Piper's face. Her eyes were half-closed, lips parted to allow shallow breaths to escape. Alex wrapped one arm around the blonde's back, pulling her closer until they were chest-to-chest and she could feel the warmth between Piper's legs, pressing against her own belly. She touched her lips to Piper's lightly, teasingly - once, twice, before claiming her mouth in a hungry kiss that left them both short of breath.

She sought Piper's tongue with her own like a honeybee seeks nectar, desperate for the life-giving sweetness of her; at the same time she slid the straps of Piper's dress down her arms, baring her shoulders and then, finally, her breasts. Piper's mouth stilled in response; her fingers twitched where they rested on the backs of the brunette's shoulders, and Alex could tell that Piper wanted instinctually to cover herself.

"Don't," she whispered, and swallowed Piper's uncertainty in another kiss. "You're beautiful," she breathed, and felt the fingers clutch her shoulders tighter in response. Taking this as a sign of permission, Alex slid her hands up between their bodies to palm the soft flesh of Piper's breasts. Her nipples had pebbled in the cold air of the attic room, and they felt exquisite beneath Alex's fingertips. She tweaked one, gently, and heard Piper moan. She did the same to the other, eliciting another keening whimper.

Losing patience, Alex shifted Piper's weight off of her lap and pushing her gently down onto her back. Then, pausing to enjoy the look of surprise on Piper's face, she lowered her mouth over one of her pert breasts and began to suckle at it.

"God, Alex," Piper groaned, tangling her fingers in the brunette's hair.

Alex shifted away to lick the skin between her breasts, smiling against her skin. "Do you want me to stop?" She asked, cupping the swell of flesh with both hands.

"No," Piper panted, pressing her palm against the back of Alex's head, forcing the brunette's mouth back toward her chest. "Don't stop."

Alex was happy to oblige, but Piper's dress was in her way. In fact, the blonde was wearing far too many clothes; Alex slid her hands down Piper's waist, fingertips ghosting along the clothed curves of her hips, before seeking the hem of her dress and pushing it up around her waist.

"What are you doing?" Piper asked, uncertainly, as Alex's fingers began to pry at the nylon of her stockings.

"Don't want to ruin any more of your clothes," she hummed, pressed her lips briefly against Piper's belly before peeling the thin nylon down her thighs, her shins, her ankles. And then they were gone, and there was only one obstacle left between Alex and her prize.

She kissed her way up one of Piper's thighs, causing the blonde to shiver and reach for her, grabbing a fistful of dark hair. Alex allowed herself to be drawn up the length of Piper's body and met her mouth for another kiss; this time it was the blonde who acted as the aggressor, and Alex was surprised to find that she enjoyed it. She wasn't usually one for relinquishing control, but with Piper writhing so deliciously beneath her she found that she didn't mind. Alex straddled her as they kissed, slipping one hand between their bodies to brush at the cloth-covered juncture of Piper's thighs. _God, she's so wet. _Alex could feel it through the fabric, and it made her own body ache with anticipation.

Pulling back from Piper's searching lips, she looked the blonde steadily in the eye as she slid her fingertips beneath the damp cloth of her knickers. Piper gasped and arched upwards, her spine curving beautifully, breasts thrust skyward. Alex took one nipple in her mouth again, sucking hard, scraping her teeth against it as her fingers moved searchingly against the wet heat between Piper's legs. With aching slowness, she pushed the tip of one finger inside.

"Fuck, Alex," the blonde hissed. Alex retreated for a moment, only to push her finger in again, deeper this time; Piper's clutched desperately at her shoulders, nails digging into her skin. It felt amazing to be inside the wonderful, tight warmth of her, and she set a gentle rhythm with her fingers, slowing increasing the pace. Piper began rolling her hips, meeting every thrust.

When Alex felt the body below her begin to tremble, she knew Piper had reached the precipice; with her thumb she stroked at the blonde's clit, coaxing her forward, watching her tumble over the edge.

Alex bit her lip, tasting blood as she closed her eyes and felt Piper Chapman come apart beneath her.

* * *

><p><strong>*A Brief Interlude*<strong>

It was a quiet day in the office, relatively speaking. One high-profile case had been wrapped up earlier that morning - a serial arsonist who'd torched two churches and the chapel of a third before finally being identified. He was pulled out of a lineup and charged that morning. A definite victory. But Inspector George Mendez wasn't one to rest on his laurels, and he was already back in the saddle, thumbing through the files of unsolved cases that were strewn about his desk. There was a haze of cigarette smoke in the office, and he lit up again now; the tobacco gave him focus, helped him order his thoughts.

The office door opened, but Mendez didn't look up - he knew it would be his protégé, Bennett, arriving for the afternoon shift.

"Congratulations." Bennett's eager floated toward him. "I heard you nabbed that church arsonist!"

Mendez exhaled slowly, tapping his cigarette over the ash tray on the corner of his desk, and looked up. "You heard right," he agreed, indifferently.

"That's a major case, sir," Bennett said, his tone encouraging.

"It's _one_ case, Benny. I got a dozen more sitting right here on my desk." He slapped a folder down on top of the pile and opened it, spreading out pages and pages of typewritten interview transcripts and investigation notes. "This one, unsolved bank robbery and homicide combo. Trail's been cold two, three months. No witnesses left to interrogate. The only guy who saw the shooter is now a corpse buried six feet deep. How do you think we're gonna solve that one?"

"Uh," Bennett replied, uncertainly. "It sounds like a dead end."

"It does," Mendez agreed. "But it's not. I don't believe in dead ends. There were eight people in the bank lobby that afternoon. Eight people who claim they have nothing to offer in the way of information. Eight fucking cowards, afraid the guilty sonofabitch will come after them if they start pointing fingers." He took a drag and then tipped his head back, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. "But someone will talk, if the price is right. We just have to find the weak link, apply the right amount of pressure, and one of them will break. You need to be relentless, Bennett. Push them until their back is up against the wall. _Scare_ them. Because that's when they start to make mistakes. When they're good and scared - that's when you catch them." A dramatic silence followed his monologue, and in that silence he kicked his feet up onto the edge of the desk and crossed one ankle over the other.

"I understand," Bennett replied, though his comprehension seemed dubious. "I can do it. Give me a case, sir, and I'll do just what you said."

"Don't be a kiss-ass, Bennett," Mendez said, grimacing. "Get me a cup of coffee for starters, and then we'll see about the case."

As his partner walked back through the door, Mendez stared absently at the smoldering tip of his cigarette. Bennett was a good kid, ambitious, hard-working, eager to please - unfortunately, all qualities he shared with a goddamn puppy. The kid was too _soft_. If Mendez was the bad cop, Bennett played the good cop role a little too convincingly. He would never make it as an investigator unless he toughened up. Still, he could be useful. Maybe it was time to trust him with something of weight.

"Here you go, sir."

"Just set it down on the desk, Benny, and pull up a seat. You remember that missing person's case we got called in on last week? That uh, that blonde girl, worried her poor grannie sick?"

"I think her name was Chapman," Bennett said, nodding as he took a seat across the desk.

"Right. Chapman. Well, the night Miss Chapman was missing, I was following a tip on a juice joint operating nearby, building rented by a Russian woman named Reznikov. They had a club set up in there; tables, bar, everything. But no hooch. Couldn't find a drop."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"A pal of mine was around that night, saw two women leaving the area just after we'd busted the joint. One of them matching the description of Piper Chapman. The other one tall, dark hair. Now, remind me Bennett, what was the name of the friend Miss Chapman claimed to be staying with?"

"She said it was, uh..." Bennett searched his memory of that evening, frowning in concentration. "Alex... something."

"Alex Vause," Mendez agreed. "If Vause was at the joint with Chapman, then she's our lead."

"Why is she the lead?" his young protégé looked lost. "Shouldn't the owner, Reznikov, be the lead?"

"She was. I've had four-man rotation tailing her, night and day, for a week. Nothing to report. She hasn't gone back to the location, she hasn't gone anywhere other than to the market, to buy a goddamn loaf of bread. Her record is clean; no arrests, no charges. Reznikov is a dead end. Chapman's mysterious friend, however, is a connection we need to follow."

"There have been a lot of hooch busts in the last few months," Bennett said, slowly, putting the pieces together. "Lot of juice joint shutdowns."

"Someone's bringing it in," Mendez agreed. "Someone's running a smuggling operation in our district, right under our fucking noses, trying to make us look like goddamn fools. And if there's one thing I hate, Benny, it's being made to look like a fool."

He stamped out the smoldering butt of his cigarette in the ash tray with unnecessary force.

"You want a case?" He went on, his voice calmer. "Here it is: I want you to check the archives - county, state, hell, the whole country if you need to - and find me everything we've got on record about Alexandra Vause."

.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I've never written smut before in my life, lawwwwl, but I didn't want to get your hopes up with the rating change and then leave you hanging. Even if that part was terrible, I'm interested to hear what you thought of the chapter as a whole. I know the meeting with Rosa was rushed, but I just really wanted to get this update posted. Rest assured there will be more details about that in the next few chapters! I feel like I'm getting into the heart of the story now, so I hope you all are ready for the ride. ;)

Lastly, I made a sideblog on tumblr for my fic stuff, so if you want to get at me there my url is blank-white-spaces

**guest shout-outs:**

Basic - Thank you for reviewing all of chapters so dutifully! I super appreciate it and love hearing what you think.

woahschilling - I see you all talking 'bout my fic on twitter, posting headcanon pics of piper. I c u. having twitter fandom's attention is how I know I've succeeded in life. (thank you! for your nice review and for being awesome)

no-name Guest who liked the fluff - I'm glad you enjoyed it, because the story is about to get... less... fluffy... *ominous music plays in the background*

no-name guest who appreciated the M rating upgrade - I hope you liked this chapter? That's all I can say, haha.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Just a quick update today! More action on the way in the next chapter.

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><p>It was early morning. The sky was just beginning to lighten over the silhouette of New York City, and Piper Chapman hadn't slept a wink. Or rather, she hadn't slept since she'd returned to the apartment last night after sundown, dodging Celeste's concerned questions about how lunch had somehow turned into an all-day disappearance, and thrown herself onto the bed in a dreamlike state of euphoria.<p>

Everything around her felt gentler, somehow. The sheets on her bed - had they always been this smooth? Was the pillow always so downy soft? Everything she touched was tinged by the haze of disreality that clung to her like a new skin. It was as if she'd fallen asleep in her old body and woken up in a new one. Lying contentedly between the bedsheets, she stretched; a slow, languorous movement that stirred a pleasant ache in her limbs as they came to life. How different a woman could feel, from one night to the next! How _buoyant_. Piper lay still and closed her eyes, imagined herself floating on her back in a calm sea, where, somewhere nearby, Alex Vause was waiting to pull her ashore.

_Alex_.

Just the thought of her name made Piper's heart beat faster, and evoked memories of the previous night; the way they'd tangled their bodies together, bruising their hips against the hard attic floor; the image of Alex's dark hair spread in beautiful contrast against Piper's pale skin as the brunette trailed kisses down the length of her torso, before spreading her thighs apart and kissing her _there, _where she was most needed; the way Piper had reached for her afterward, reverently, as if in worship, fingertips tracing a silent prayer of thanks across her skin.

Even now, as the last shadows of night slid away across her bedroom floor, Piper still basked in the afterglow of that moment. She'd never felt like this before. She never wanted it to stop.

Eventually she forced herself to get up, bathe, and sit down for breakfast with her grandmother. It was so difficult to act normal, to pretend her story hadn't somehow been rewritten over the course of a single night. She answered all of Celeste's questions evasively, with a lopsided smile, grinning furtively into her porridge.

Alex was a tantalizing secret all her own, the first forbidden thing Piper had ever wanted bad enough to lie about to people she loved. The rebellious nature of her deception was almost as alluring as Alex herself, and Piper felt giddy, almost drunk on her own daring.

The delicious thrill of it all lifted her up and would have swept her away indefinitely, had her fiancé not appeared in the foyer around lunchtime. She rounded the corner and there he was, wiping his feet on the doormat.

"Larry?" she said, blankly. The air in the apartment felt suddenly thin.

"Piper." He crossed the distance between them to catch her up in a gentle embrace; and just like that the euphoria was gone, replaced by a rising panic.

"Ah, Mr. Bloom!" Celeste's voice boomed out behind them, making Piper jump. "I invited your fiancé for lunch, darling," she explained, beaming at them as if she'd done her granddaughter an incredible favor and expected to be thanked profusely for it.

Piper just gaped at her. Thankfully, neither Larry nor her grandmother seemed to notice. They were content to ignore her, for the moment, and make small talk with one another.

"It was very kind of you," Larry said amiably, tipping his hat at Celeste before removing it and setting it atop the coat stand. "I can't tell you how happy I am to get away from the office for an hour. Not to mention, the company here is much more pleasant."

He smiled at Piper, reaching for her hand, and she just barely kept herself from pulling away. She allowed herself to be steered into the dining room where lunch had been laid out by the cook (a household staff was a luxury Celeste insisted upon keeping) and sat down across from her fiancé. Hey eyes traced the pattern of the tablecloth, noticed that the 'good' dishes had been brought out of storage for the occasion. She looked everywhere but at Larry. She couldn't face him. The guilt, she thought, would be written all over her face.

"What's happening at the newspaper these days?" Celeste asked, filling the silence.

Larry was suddenly animated, clearly seizing on the opportunity to impress. "Well, we're contemplating a merger with another, smaller paper," he said, eagerly. "The only hold-up is the contracts; all of their top writers want guaranteed pay, which isn't how we operate. Our journalists are generally paid per word, with a bonus if their article makes the front page . . ."

Piper's focus drifted. She picked up her fork and stabbed ineffectually at her food. She didn't want to hear about Larry's job. She didn't want to be here, in this room with its vaulted ceiling and gaudy chandelier, eating off of gold-rimmed porcelain plates, listening to all this talk of mergers and contracts and journalists. She wanted to be sitting on the floor of the dusty safe-house attic, or laying on the sofa in Alex's apartment, wrapped in comfortable silence, speaking only in the vague language of the passionate caress.

"... isn't that right, Piper?" Celeste's voice broke through her daydream, and Piper started. Her fork slipping sideways, scraping along the plate with a hideous grating sound, making everyone wince.

"Sorry," she said hastily, setting the fork down. "What were you saying, grandmother?"

"That you've been very busy yourself, dear."

"Busy?" Piper repeated, blinking in confusion.

"Yes. With your friend, Alexandra."

Piper swallowed. Yes, she'd certainly been _busy_ with Alex, yesterday.

"The girls were out all day!" Celeste continued, indulgently. "Piper almost had me worried, I thought I'd have to call the police again." She chuckled.

"Don't be so dramatic, grandmother," Piper mumbled, picking up her fork again. She didn't like the direction this conversation was headed.

"Ah, the mysterious Alex," Larry said, with interest. "I thought you said you wouldn't be seeing her much, because she was so busy?"

"She, well... her schedule cleared," Piper replied, evasively.

"You never told me what she does," Larry continued. "This job that makes her schedule so hectic."

"She's, ah- well... she's..." Piper stuttered, thinking hard, trying to come up with a reasonable profession for a young, outrageously independent, absurdly modern woman living alone in the city. "She deals in, um..."

"... art?" Celeste prompted, and Piper seized on it.

"Yes! Art. She's an art dealer," she said with relief. This was entirely plausible, she thought, given that Alex had been openly admiring Celeste's collection yesterday, and certainly knew enough about the subject to fake a professional interest in it. "Impressionist pieces, mostly," she added, thinking that detail would make the story more convincing.

"I've been looking for something to hang in my office," Larry said, with enthusiasm. "There's a particular piece I'm interested in - maybe she would be willing to help locate it."

Piper's felt her throat constrict as she was called on her bluff. With a tortured smile, she turned her attention upon her plate. "I'm sure she'd love to help. I'll mention it to her when I see her tomorrow. But Larry," she continued, looking up at him at last, hiding behind a mask of a smile, "tell me more about this merger. Did they put you in charge of the negotiations?"

She kept him talking, all through lunch, depriving he and Celeste of the opportunity to ask her more questions about her whereabouts yesterday, or about her relationship with Alex. She felt slightly sick for the rest of the meal, her stomach churning with the simultaneously thrill and shame of what she wasn't telling them.

Piper didn't know how to describe what was happening between she and Alex; she didn't know what it meant, or how long it would last. She only knew that she wanted it to continue, and that meant keeping it secret.

* * *

><p>Larry left, and afternoon stretched into evening. Her grandmother announced that she was going for a walk, leaving Piper blessedly, mercifully alone in the apartment. As soon as the front door closed, Piper made for the telephone in the hallway. The device was seldom used; Celeste was deeply mistrustful of what she termed 'newfangled gadgetry.'<p>

Piper lifted the receiver to her ear and dialed the operator. When a cool female voice answered, Piper asked to be connected to Miss Alexandra Vause, Manhattan. There were several clicks as the call was transferred, and then it began to ring. There was no answer. Just as Piper was about to give up, Alex's voice reached her through the earpiece.

"Hello?" she answered. Her voice, traveling sluggishly through the telephone wires, sounded far away; her signature, husky tone caused a pang longing in Piper's chest.

"Alex," she breathed, smiling.

"Piper?" The brunette sounded surprised, and then concerned. "What's wrong?" They hadn't planned to meet again until the following evening, when they would join the other girls for the mission to Vee's club. Piper calling out of the blue must have struck Alex as a reason to worry.

Piper lifted the base of the telephone from its resting place on the table so that she could speak into the transmitter more comfortably. She meant to say '_I miss you'_ or '_I've been thinking about you,'_ but instead she faltered, and all that came out was "Larry was here."

On the other end of the line, Alex was silent. Finally, in a strained voice, she asked, "Are you alone?"

Piper glanced down the hall at the closed door in the foyer. "Yes."

"What do you want me to say?"

_I want you to tell me what to do about it_, Piper thought. "I don't know," she murmured into the mouthpiece. "I don't know, Alex. I'm so confused..."

"Why?"

The question surprised her. "Why what?"

"Why are you so confused?" Alex repeated, insistently

"Are you serious?" Piper asked, incredulous. "Alex, I'm _engaged_."

"You've been engaged since we met, Piper," Alex reminded her, her tone impatient.

"I know, but now..." she trailed off, biting her lip. "You pursued me," she said, hesitantly. "And I liked it. And then, last you night, you- we-" Piper closed her eyes. "I've never thought of myself as a very sexual person," she whispered. "But ever since, I- I can't stop thinking about you, Alex."

She paused, waiting for the other woman to respond, but there was only silence.

"That thing you did, with your... with your tongue," Piper continued, haltingly, her voice soft with embarrassment. "I want to do that. To you. I want to- I want to taste you, Alex."

On the other end of the line, Alex Vause let out a ragged breath. _"Fuck."_ The word was muffled, as if she'd leaned away from the transmitter for a moment. "Piper," she growled into the mouthpiece, "don't. Don't say that. Not unless you want me climbing through your window tonight."

"I do," Piper whispered back, fervently. "I do. I want you."

"_Jesus, _Piper. Stop it. I can't, you know I can't."

"I know," she sighed. "I know."

There were footsteps outside the apartment, and Piper knew that Celeste would be walking back through the door any second now.

"My grandmother's coming back," she whispered. "I have to go, but... Alex?"

"Yes?"

"Will you... think about me, tonight? Will you miss me?"

There was a pause. "Yes," the voice on the other end replied, ardently. "Too much."

Piper closed her eyes. There was a soft click as the line went dead. She took a shaky breath and arranged the telephone back into its proper place on the hall table, her fingers trembling. By the time her grandmother opened the door Piper was halfway up the stairs, heading for the quiet sanctuary of her bedroom.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** I've had a rough week irl so your reviews have meant even more to me than usual. 3 I especially appreciated the comments about my writing style in the last chapter, so thanks for that! I honestly can't believe so many people are still reading and enjoying this story. It blows my mind. Thank you.

I'm not very happy with how this chapter turned out, but there's only so much editing you can do before you just have to let it go, ya know? Oh, and I apologize if I mixed up any poker terms - I know absolutely nothing about cards, haha.

Less important notes at the bottom. Enjoy :)

* * *

><p>When Piper arrived at Nicky's apartment the following afternoon, her nerves had begun to fray.<p>

It wasn't the prospect of participating in gang activity that caused the unsettled feeling in her stomach; rather, it was the idea of seeing Alex again that filled her a breathless anticipation. She was torn between wanting to throw herself back into Alex's embrace, and the need to hold the woman at arm's length long enough to figure out what the hell was happening between them.

Piper felt as if she were walking a tightrope, suspended above the kind of amorous madness that compelled otherwise logical people to do incredibly foolish things. She already had one foot in the air - some bold part of her was ready to walk off into the abyss, even knowing there was no safety net to catch her. But the other, more cautious Piper was preparing to hang on for dear life, too afraid to let herself free fall.

For now, all she could do was gather her courage and knock on the door.

There had been a steady hum of conversation coming from inside Nicky's apartment, but it faded to silence as soon as Piper rapped her knuckles on the dark wood. She waited twenty seconds before realizing she was supposed to identify herself in order to be admitted.

"It's Piper," she said softly, and then Nicky opened the door.

Looking into the apartment, Piper saw that the usual furniture had been pushed to the edges of the room in order to make way for a card table, around which the girls were sitting amidst a clutter of poker chips, ashtrays, and half-empty tumblers. Piper, however, only had eyes for the woman she'd spent the last two days day-dreaming about. Alex was clothed, as usual, in black; her dress had a v-shaped neckline that fell just low enough to be sultry, but still modest enough to remain classy, and the fabric gathered at her hips in a way that invited Piper's gaze to continue downward.

Alex cleared her throat playfully and Piper, only then realizing she'd been staring in the midst of half a dozen observers, blushed.

She looked around at the rest of the girls; Poussey, Nicky, and Tricia were seated at the card table with Alex; Mercy lounged on the sofa next to them, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. The atmosphere was incredibly relaxed, given that this was a meeting of conspirators who were soon to strike the next blow in turf war between two criminal gangs. In fact, the scene exuded a ridiculous lack of focus.

"I thought you were supposed to be preparing," she said, frowning. "But you're...drinking? And playing cards?"

"We're drinking to steady our nerves," Tricia replied, perching her cigarette between her lips as she studied the cards in her hand.

"It's tradition," Nicky said, unconcernedly. "Anyway, liquor in the front, poker in the rear - right, Vause?" She elbowed Alex, grinning suggestively.

The brunette ignored her, focusing her attention instead on Piper. Meeting the blonde's gaze, she arched an eyebrow and crooked her finger in a come-hither motion. It was a calculated gesture, designed to make Piper go weak in the knees, and it worked. She obeyed without thinking, skirting around the table to reach Alex, who was sitting on the far side.

"Hi," said Alex.

It was one word - one syllable, really, but it made Piper's heartbeat speed up immediately; had there ever before been a voice so casually seductive?

"Hi yourself," she replied, attempting to match Alex's nonchalant tone. Now that the brunette was within reach, all Piper wanted to do was tangle her fingers in that cascade of dark hair and continue where they'd left off the other night. But Alex made the first move. She took Piper's hand, drawing her down to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. It was chaste and gentle but it felt like a promise of things to come, and Piper's face grew warm in the wake of it.

"Hi," she repeated, bashfully.

"You said that already," Nicky observed loudly, snickering, and Piper blushed even harder. She'd been so intent on Alex that she'd forgotten there were other people in the room.

"Fuck off, Nichols," Alex said mildly. "Get Piper a drink."

"Why don't _you_ do it?"

"Because it's your apartment, you ass."

Nicky muttered something incoherent and stood up. Throwing a dark look at Alex, she trudged away toward the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, Alex resumed staring at the blonde; Piper felt curiously exposed, as though she were being undressed beneath Alex's sensual gaze.

"Well look at you, all dolled up," the brunette drawled, patting Nicky's vacant seat. Piper sad down obediently and began to rearrange the fabric of her dress across her knees, too embarrassed by Alex's attention to look at her fully. It felt strange to be acknowledged so intimately while other people were watching. Alex was staring at her with an intensity so focused it made Piper feel like the only other person in the room. When their eyes met, everything and everyone else just faded into the background.

"That dress looks beautiful on you," Alex continued, and then leaned forward to whisper in Piper's ear. "It would look even better on the floor next to my bed."

The obvious desire in her voice made Piper shiver, but somehow she kept her composure.

"Maybe I'll let you take it off later," she whispered back. "_If_ you behave."

"Mhmm," Alex hummed, placing a hand on the blonde's knee and nudging the fabric aside with her fingertips. "I'm not making any promises."

On the other side of the table, Poussey shifted in her seat. "What's it going to be, Vause? You gonna draw, or not?"

"Nicky's the dealer," Alex replied, coolly. "Can't do anything until she gets back."

Meanwhile, the hand on Piper's knee began to slide higher. Alex was stroking her stocking-clad thigh, moving her thumb in little circles, all the while staring intently at the cards in her other hand and betraying no hint of her movements below the table. Piper's poker face, by contrast, was not so good; she sucked in a startled breath, blinking rapidly in surprise. Her body tensing beneath Alex's wandering fingers, which were now trailing up the inside of her thigh, reaching the edge of her stockings and lingering over their lacy garter before continuing onward to discover bare skin.

It was all Piper could do not to squirm in her seat. Just when this teasing touch was about to become unbearable, Alex stilled her hand. The blonde let out a long, slow breath, struggling to hold still. She glanced pleadingly at Alex, who was resolutely pretending not to notice the Piper's distress while giving every appearance of remaining thoroughly engrossed in the study of her cards.

Piper could only assume that this torturous little game was payback for what she'd said on the phone last night, and was now seriously regretting her brazenness. Alex's fingers had resumed their teasing strokes, and Piper wasn't sure how much longer she could stand it. When one of the brunette's fingertips slipped beneath the edge of her knickers, Piper knew she was in trouble.

"Hey, blondie, you stole my seat!" Nicky called, emerging from the kitchen with a drink in hand and unknowingly coming to the rescue.

Seizing on the excuse to move out of Alex's reached, Piper hastily pulled the brunette's hand out of her lap and stood up.

"Sorry," she said quickly, accepted the offered glass of gin from Nicky's outstretched hand and then taking a step back from the table. She glanced around the room, spotted an empty chair in the corner, and started to walk toward it; but Alex stopped her, wrapping one arm possessively around the blonde's waist and tugged her back.

"Stay here," Alex murmured. "I need you. You're my good luck charm."

Piper watched as Alex drew two cards from her hand and discarded them, then picked up two new ones and slid them into place. Her expression was unreadable; she was either an expert poker player, or simply well-practiced at concealing her thoughts.

Poussey opened the next round by sliding a stack of chips toward the pot. Tricia, who was next in the circle, let out a heavy sigh.

"I fold," she said mournfully, laying her cards face-down on the table.

"Already?" Mercy piped up from her place on the sofa.

"I got a crap hand." Tricia scowled, folding her arms across her chest.

"What about you Vause?" Nicky turned to look at Alex, whose face remained inscrutable.

"I'll call," she said, smoothly, sliding her chips across the table and then staring at Poussey, trying to measure the other woman's reaction.

"Okay then. Let's see those cards," Nicky prompted.

"Four of a kind," Poussey said in a satisfied tone as she turned her hand over, revealing four Aces and a King.

Alex stared at her for several seconds, and then grinned in triumph. "Royal flush," she sang happily, slapping her own cards down on the table.

Poussey gaped at her. "What? I was sure I saw you flinch when you drew those last two cards!"

Alex shrugged in response. "Maybe I flinched on purpose," she said, smugly. She reached for Piper again, tugging the blonde closer. "See, Pipes? I knew you were lucky."

The game broke up as Nicky and Poussey got to their feet, arguing about one of the finer points of poker as they lit their cigarettes. Piper viewed the general chaos as an opportunity to steal a moment alone with Alex.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked, taking the other woman's hand. "In the kitchen?"

Alex raised a quizzical brow but stood up, allowing Piper to lead her out of the room and around the corner. As soon as they were out of sight, Piper whirled around and tugged Alex toward her, closing the space between them and pressing their lips together. The blonde's boldness took Alex by surprise, but it faded quickly as she fought to reassert control.

Lifting both hands to cup Piper's face as the kiss deepened, Alex steered the blonde backward. The two of them stumbled blindly for a moment before colliding painfully with the kitchen table. Despite this, they never broke contact; Alex, seeing the convenient surface as an opportunity, lifted Piper up and set her down on top of the table. In a matter of seconds she was pushing the blonde's dress up around her hips, so that Piper's legs were free to wrap around her waist. One hand slid up Piper's thigh again, eliciting an impatient moan.

"Stop doing that," Piper hissed, trying to tug Alex closer. "You're a goddamn tease, Alex."

"Mhmm, but you like it," the brunette replied, before kissing her way along Piper's jawline, pausing to nip at the soft skin just below her ear.

"I- oh!" Piper whimpered, tilting her head to the side to grant easier access. She was already impossibly turned on, rocking her hips and trying to draw the other woman closer, desperate to relieve the ache that was building at the apex of her thighs. But even in this frustrated state, her mind registered the fact that this was a highly compromising position to found in, should someone interrupt.

"Alex," she groaned, "someone could walk in here!"

"They could," Alex murmured, lips pressed against Piper's neck. "Exciting, isn't it? Besides," she growled, "you started it. You telephoned me last night. Told me how much you _wanted_ me."

Piper tried to protest, but Alex swallowed her words with another kiss.

"No sooner did your fucking fiancé walk out the door," she continued, sucking aggressively at the delicate skin of Piper's throat, "than you were calling _me_, telling me how much you _missed_ me."

"Alex, I-"

"And then you you show up here wearing this skimpy little dress, and these sheer stockings with these little lace garters." She squeezed Piper's thighs with both hands, pressing her thumbs into the aforementioned bands of fabric. "And you know what I think?" she asked, sliding her hands up further, shoving Piper's dress impatiently aside.

"What?" Piper replied, breathless with anticipation.

"I think you want me to fuck you," Alex concluded with a wicked grin, as she slipped one hand inside Piper's undergarment and found the evidence of her claim. "You've been wet for me since you walked in here, haven't you?"

Piper had no words of protest left, and Alex would know any denial for a lie. All she could do was pull the woman closer as those talented fingers circled her clit, causing her to rock her hips forward with need.

"Well?" Alex prompted. When Piper didn't answer she pulled her fingers away, eliciting a groan of disappointment. "Am I right?"

Piper glanced up shyly, almost afraid of the sudden intensity in Alex's eyes.

"Yes," she whispered. "I want you."

"And only me?" the brunette demanded, her voice now a low growl.

And suddenly, it wasn't just about sex. This whole seduction, Piper realized, was Alex's way of delivering a message: _she didn't want to share._

Alex pressed her thumb against blonde's clit again, and Piper whimpered in agony. She didn't know what to say. She wasn't ready to cast her fiancé aside, but right now she needed this woman so badly she was willing to say almost anything to make her stay.

So she gave the only answer Alex would accept:

"Yes," she breathed, opening her eyes to meet the brunette's smoldering gaze. "Only you, Alex. I only want you."

Alex's mouth curved in triumph and her fingers resumed their ministrations, rewarding Piper for making the right choice.

* * *

><p>Back in the living room, the girls were cleaning up the aftermath of the card game.<p>

As she prepared to clear the poker chips, Nicky cast a pitying glance at Poussey, who was holding the brim of her hat and twirling it around glumly. _Poor kid. She's had a rough week. _Making up her mind, Nicky swept the chips haphazardly into their container. "Whoops," she said, feigning regret. "I forgot to record to the amount in the pot. Looks like Vause won't be getting her winnings."

She was rewarded with a thin smile from her friend. "You don't have to screw around like that to make me feel better, Nichols," Poussey admonished her.

"Who's screwing around? I made a mistake," she said with a shrug, failing to conceal her lopsided smile.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door, and everyone went quiet. They weren't expecting any new arrivals this late in the evening; anyone who wasn't here by now should have gone on ahead to Vee's location.

Nicky approached the door cautiously and peered through the peep hole. A young, small, Italian-looking girl was standing in the hall, shifting from foot to foot, seeming very uncertain of her reason for being there. Deciding that the girl couldn't possibly be a threat, Nicky unbolted the door and cracked it open, causing the stranger to step back in surprise.

"Who are you?" Nicky asked, suspiciously.

"I'm Lorna," the woman replied, with a sheepish smile. "Morello? I'm Miss Rosa's driver. She wanted me to stop over here."

Mercy and Tricia exchanged questioning glances; Poussey looked perplexed. Nicky just shrugged.

"Come in then," she said, letting the door slide open. "We're almost ready to go."

* * *

><p><strong>Bonus note:<strong> I've looked up a lot of 1920s slang for this fic, and while I haven't used a ton of it because I didn't want to be too jarring and confuse people, here are some of my favorites:

Dick = private investigator. (Mendez is a literal dick)

Struggle Buggy = the backseat of a car (as in "Alex and Piper are necking in the struggle buggy")

"butt me" = "give me a cigarette"

words to describe drunkenness: canned, corked, tanked, primed, scrooched, zozzled, owled, lit, potted, ossified, fried to the hat

**Totally unrelated note:** I know I promised more holiday fics as a follow-up to my Halloween story, but I don't think I'll have time to write a Thanksgiving one this week. However, I've been contemplating either a Christmas Alex-centric "It's a Wonderful Life" story or a series of vauseman one-shots about how all the New Years Eves between their breakup and Litchfield could have played out had they stayed together. If you have a preference, leave it in a review or send me a message!


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** So, it's been a while. Longer than I would have liked, but I had a lot of trouble getting started on this update. I needed to advance the plot, but couldn't figure out how to do it properly. Hopefully you like what I came up with!

Thank you so much for your reviews - I haven't replied to them like I usually try to, but I promise I will after I post this chapter! Your feedback means so much to me. If you're still enjoying this story, I'd love to hear from you.

(**p.s.** I'm glad to know the smut in the last chapter had its intended effect on you, wink wink)

* * *

><p>Outside, in the gathering shadows of dusk, Miss Rosa sat alone in the car. No - not alone. She always had company.<p>

He had been with her for as long as she could remember, his hands poised around her throat, fingers always ready to squeeze. His name was Death. He was a cruel, hard lover. Somehow Rosa always slipped his noose at the last moment, just when the rope was about to pull taught, and others died instead - men, mostly, the ones she had loved. The ones she had kissed. But not her, never her. Rosa always survived.

But now she was dying.

She could feel it in her bones - an ache that never went away, a stiffness in her back that had never been there before. Sitting in the passenger seat, she felt a sudden shortness of breath and knew it was Death stealing a kiss from her. One before the job, one after - a ritual Rosa had demanded of every lover she had pulled off a heist with. Now all of those men were gone because Death had taken them, eliminating his rivals one by one until he alone was left. A faceless thing, a shadow with no silhouette, waiting with hands outstretched to finally possess the woman he hunted.

Rose lit a cigarette. Sucked in the smoke. Her lungs protested, but what did it matter?

Might as well live a little, while she still could.

Through the open car window there came the sound of footsteps slapping against pavement, and Rosa glanced up. It was Morello. The girl opened the car, slid into the driver's seat, and set her delicate hands upon the steering wheel. Then she looked over at Rosa.

"I'm not so sure about this," she said, almost apologetically. "They're not very professional. I think some of them might be drunk."

"Might be?" Rosa repeated, staring out at the twilit street. "Are they, or aren't they?"

"Well, shoot, Miss Rosa, I'm not sure! They are, or near enough as makes no matter."

"Of course it matters," she replied, calmly, as she flicked her cigarette butt out the window. "In this line of work, kid, every detail is important. You need to know who you're going to war with."

She turned her head at last to survey Morello's expression; it was worried, and eager. Rosa knew the kid was excited. This was her first real, start-to-finish job, and she was clearly primed and ready to prove herself. The girl was about as sharp as a marble, but she still had her uses - driving the getaway car, for one. Breaking-and-entering, for another. Lorna could pick a lock faster than Rosa herself, with sure, steady fingers. She could move quietly when she wanted, too, stealthy as a shadow at midnight. She would never be the brains of an operation, but as the brawn she had potential. Rosa had chosen her not just for her skills, but also because she was a woman and therefore safe. Rosa didn't do jobs with men anymore. They had too much of a knack for dying.

"It's not really war, is it?" Morello asked, nervously. "It's just one job."

"For us, just a job," Rosa agreed. "For them? War, which is what makes them useless. War is too personal."

"If you knew they'd be so bad at this, why did you agree to help?"

"Because Red asked, and they're hopeless without me."

"So it _is_ personal," Morello observed, and the corners of her lips twitched knowingly. "Even for you."

"What can I say?" Rosa shrugged. "I am old, and getting sloppy." And proud - she was proud, too. Red had promised one last heist, one last triumph to hang her hat on, and Rosa was going to take it. She was a woman who intended to die with dignity.

And with that thought, Miss Rosa Cisneros - former femme fatale, enduring legend - sat up a little straighter.

"Do as I say, kid, not as I do," she instructed, with a gravelly timbre. "Now, drive."

* * *

><p>A block away from Vee's club, Nicky grabbed Poussey by the shoulder.<p>

"This isn't the plan!" she hissed, trying to slow her friend down.

"Fuck the plan!" Poussey growled, dropping her shoulder and jerking away from Nicky's restraining grip. "This whole thing is bullshit. We're just supposed to sit out here and do _nothing _while a complete stranger goes in to case the joint? No way! Those are _our_ friends in there. _We_ should be the ones going in."

"Listen, I know you're sad about Tasha, but-"

"Sad?" Poussey repeated, eyes blazing. "_Sad? _Fuck you, Nichols! She was my best friend. I'm not sad, I'm furious!"

"Alright, alright!" Nicky threw her hands up in surrender. "Vee screwed you over. I know. She screwed _all_ of us. But you really think that if you go in there and start swinging punches, it's going to make Tasha come back?"

"No," Poussey snarled, "but I have to do something. Vee took my _friend_, Nicky." Her hands were clenched into shaking fists, and she shoved them angrily into the pockets of her trousers to hide their embarrassing tremble.

"I get it. I do," Nicky said, lowering her voice, trying to reason with her. "You think this hasn't happened to me? That one intense friendship with a girl who's really into it, until she gets a beau. And then we hate that poor bastard with the white-hot heat of a thousand suns, because he's not worthy of her, or whatever. But what's really happening is that we're in love with our friend."

"I'm not in love with her!" Poussey protested.

"Sure." Nicky shrugged, smiling sadly. "But in the event that you _were_, picking fights with Vee is just going to drive her further away."

Poussey paused for a moment, considering this. "I'm not picking a fight," she said, finally. "I just want to go and see... see if she's happy. I'm _going_, Nicky."

She squared her shoulders, hands still in her pockets, and started forward with a determined gait. She passed a few wandering figures as she walked, too focused on her destination to pay them any notice. Her fingers were still shaking slightly when she opened the door and walked into the club.

It was dimly lit and spartanly decorated, a poor imitation of a real jazz bar. But it was packed, and even right inside the entrance Poussey had to press her way into the sea of patrons, muttering apologies as she jostled her way through. The lights were dim and her eyes were drawn to the stage, where a spotlight illuminated two women, resplendent in bright-colored, form-fitting gowns.

Tasha and Cindy, her former bandmates, were clearly doing just fine without her. Their harmonies soared above the general din of the crowd, which had quieted to a dull murmur as the attention of the room was fixed upon the stage. The tinkle of piano keys sounded thin and tinsely in the huge space, but it didn't matter - the singers wove their voices through it, dulcet tones wrapping themselves around the notes like gossamer. They sounded good; better, even, than when they'd sung as a trio.

The song ended and the audience exploded into applause, whooping and hollering their approval of these stunning vocalists that Vee had plucked off the street somewhere and turned into an overnight sensation.

Poussey felt sick. The intoxicated buzz she'd built up while playing poker with the girls had worn off, and she desperately needed another drink. She fought her way to the bar and slumped down on an open stool, rapping her knuckles on the counter. "Whiskey," she croaked, and watched while the bartender poured her a glass.

"What are you doing here?" said a voice at her elbow.

"Came to hear you sing," she replied coolly, turning to look at Tasha. She was standing with her hands on her hips, surveying Poussey with a look of mingled incredulity and disgust.

"Came to get drunk, it looks like."

Poussey spread her palms open atop the bar, in a gesture of innocence. "Can't blame me for that. Your pal Vee has drained the city dry. Ain't a bootlegger in town that will sell to us anymore, thanks to her."

"That's her business. I got nothing to do with that," Tashsa said, firmly.

"You just sing, right? To make money. For _her_." Poussey tossed back her drink, draining the glass in one gulp and grimacing as the whiskey burned its way down her throat.

"Why can't you just be happy for me?" Tasha demanded. "We got it good here, P. We're getting paid! I moved out of the boarding house yesterday, and I got my own place."

Poussey's fingers clenched around her glass. "We were supposed to get a place. _Together._"

"Well... why can't we? This doesn't have to change everything. We can still be friends."

"No. We can't."

Poussey wasn't sure what made her say that, and she regretted it instantly. She wanted to be friends, of course she did. She wanted more than anything to pretend that Vee hadn't stepped in and pushed them apart. But she couldn't. Because when it came down to it, Tasha had chosen that woman over her. And it fucking _hurt_.

She expected Tasha to get mad, to yell, to berate her for being selfish; what she hadn't expected to hear was a heavy sigh and a soft warning. "You need to be careful," Tasha said, quietly. "Vee don't play around. If you make trouble for her, it's going to end badly."

"What do you care?" Poussey snarled, slamming her glass down on the counter and signaling for the bartender to refill her drink.

"I'm serious, P. You shouldn't even be here. You should leave, before she sees you."

"I'm not afraid of her," Poussey said, stubbornly, taking another gulp. The alcohol made her braver - it was liquid courage.

Tasha sighed. "Just take care of yourself, okay?"

And then she was gone, slipping away into the crowd, leaving Poussey alone at the bar to nurse her wounded pride with whiskey and cigarettes and the pitying stares of strangers. She was alone just long enough to down another glass before someone slid into Tasha's vacated seat.

"Well," Vee said, softly. "This, I did not expect." Her voice had a silky, oily quality, like a spider that knew she'd trapped a fly and was now working up an appetite. "Came to check on your friend, right? Make sure I'm treating her okay? Don't worry, I'm taking good care of her."

Poussey turned slowly in her seat. The booze had worked its way into her bloodstream by now; her movements felt sluggish, but her anger was still sharp. "If you hurt her, I will kill you."

Vee laughed. "Really? And how are you going to do that?"

Poussey pushed the glass away, and got unsteadily to her feet. "I'll think of a way," she said stiffly.

"You can try," Vee responded, still smiling. She gestured to someone; a second later Poussey had been yanked backward, one arm twisted up painfully behind her back. She tried to pull away, but the movement only made the pain in her shoulder worse; whoever had a hold on her was strong. "Take her outside," Vee instructed, her voice gone suddenly cold, the look in her eyes hard as stone.

Poussey struggled. She tried to stomp on her captor's feet, trying to throw her elbows around, but it was hopeless. When she finally broke free it was only because she'd been thrown onto the street. She landed hard, bones slamming painfully against the cobblestones.

"Fuck you," she snarled, spitting at the brutish stranger's feet. Her words earned her a painful kick to the ribs that left her gasping for breath. A fist collided with her jaw and she went sprawling back onto the dusty street, ears ringing. She swallowed and tasted blood, unsavory and metallic as copper.

"Hey!" It was Nicky. She walked purposefully toward Vee's crony. "Hey, crazy eyes - you got a problem with my friend here?"

There were more footsteps, and Poussey blinked, trying to focus her eyes on the newcomers; she recognized the faces of Tricia, Alex, and Piper.

"If you've got a problem with Poussey," Nicky continued, "you've got a problem with all of us."

A pair of hands helped her to her feet, and Poussey looked up at Piper gratefully. She didn't know the blonde very well, but in that moment she was thankful for her presence. Poussey stood unsteady next to her, fists clenched, glaring as the wild-eyed aggressor was suddenly joined by two more members of Vee's crew. It was about to turn into a brawl, and they all knew it.

"Five against three," Tricia said, behind her. "I like those odds."

"You'll like them less in a minute," one of the girls replied, confidently, rolling up her sleeves.

Tricia made a movement too quick to follow, and suddenly she was holding a long razor, the kind you might find in use at a barbershop. Easy to cary, sharp enough to kill. "You sure?" she asked, flicking the blade open.

All at once, the girls around Poussey leapt into motion. A body collided with her midsection, knocking the wind out of her and sending her sprawling again. Recovering, she rolled on top of her assailant and threw a clumsy punch, cursing at the pain in her own knuckles. In an instant she was on her back again, the weight of another body pressing fully onto her stomach, making it difficult to breath. The side of Poussey's face exploding in pain as her attacker score another hit. She was pinned, unable to move. _Fuck. _If only she wasn't so drunk.

And then the heavy weight was gone, and she sucked in gasping breath, filling her lungs with much-needed oxygen. The fight was breaking up as suddenly as it had begun, and Poussey realized why when she glanced up to find the face of her savior leering down at her... from beneath a police cap.

"Brawling in the streets, ladies?" The mustachioed inspector asked, smugly. All around Poussey, the other girls were being restrained by policemen and clapped into handcuffs.

"Looks like gang activity, wouldn't you say, Bennett?" He leaned down, grabbing Poussey by the wrists and pulling her to her feet. "And public drunkenness, judging by the smell of booze on this one. Looks like you're all spending a night in the slammer, ladies!" He winked at her, disgustingly.

As she was being loaded into the police car alongside Nicky, Poussey caught a glimpse of another figure talking to officer Bennett; a large, butch woman idly twirling a pimp cane, grinning in a smug, satisfied way as she chatted with the man in the uniform.

"Fuck," Nicky gasped, slamming her head back against the seat in frustration. "Big Boo. She fucking sold us out, I should have known."

Poussey let out a string of curses. She knew this was all her fault. If she hadn't gone in, if she hadn't picked a fight- but it was too late now. The damage was done.

"Thanks for coming to my rescue," she whispered, dejectedly. After that, there was nothing else to say.

They were going to jail. Handcuffed and bleeding, they waited in silence for the cops to come back and cart them away.

* * *

><p>There was a reason Rosa hated working with amateurs. They always ruined her carefully laid plans, always went bumbling into a situation without any semblance of restraint, and Red's girls were no different.<p>

Rosa had been in the bar less than ten minutes. In that time she'd noted the layout of the club, the pair of bouncers at each entrance, the disappearance of one of them through a locked door behind the bar which, she presumed, was where the safe was hidden. She was temped to pick the lock, slip in there, and pocket the cash. But now wasn't the time. Now was for gathering information, and committing the place to memory. Only, she ran out of time. She ran out of time because that little tomboy picked a fight, and now the mission was ruined.

Rosa hadn't lived this long by getting involved in stupid brawls, and she wasn't about to fight in one for the sake of these idiots, these little girls pretending to be gangsters. So she left. Walked calmly back three blocks to where the car waiting, engine still running, and climbed in.

"What happened?" Morello demanded. "You're not supposed to be back yet!"

"Exactly what I expected," Rosa said, evenly. "It was too personal. They screwed up, got in trouble."

"Should we go back and help them?"

"No. The cops are there. Drive."

"The cops?" Lorna repeated. "Miss Rosa, maybe we should-"

"Drive," she repeated. "We can't do anything for them if we get ourselves arrested. Go."

Looking regretful, Lorna pulled the car away from the curb and started down the dark street. "We should at least go tell Red," she said, softly. Rosa nodded, and then leaned back against her seat.

She could feel him sitting next to her, waiting, always waiting: Death, demanding his due. But it was not time for Rosa to go. Not yet.

_"Not yet," _she whispered, and closed her eyes, slipping into the cover of darkness.


End file.
